


A Darker Path

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 99,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dick goes fully under Slade's aegis as Renegade, the entire DCU is remade in a darker image.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken Past, Darker Futures

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Originally posted between 2006-2008, this is a complete rewrite of the Infinite Crisis, and it is a very dark, deadly 'verse. Most of the major DCU makes an appearance over the course of the story, with various relationships hinted or shown as it goes.
> 
> 2\. The writer coldfiredragon had two stories that involved Dick taking Slade's serum, and that led to this universe.

Roy snapped awake to the feel and sound of the entire HQ shaking, rubbing sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand while he rolled out of his bunk. An hour down was just not enough time... He shoved his feet into his boots and reached for the armor, yanking it on painfully fast. Hands went to bow and quiver, shoving head and shoulder through the strap quickly. He spent the time to pull up camera feeds on his computer and looked into a disaster. The shaking was explained as he saw Thunder struggling to pull herself out of a wall, obviously thrown by by... Bane? //Huh?// That didn't make sense, but he had no time to think about it, eyes drawn from scene to scene--a pair of slim women containing a struggling Shift in the same gear he'd used, Grace struggling, enraged, with a hulking man in green //the damned Turtle?// 

//How did they get in, the perimeter sensors should have warned us before they could get near this far... NO time, Harper, move!// 

He headed out the door, arrow already knocked to bow, scanning the hallway, then moving, heading first for Shift--with Bane and the Turtle, he was going to need all the help he could get! Needing a mix of caution and speed he moved at a half-run, wondering who else was in the building as he moved. He flattened himself against the wall at the sound of an unfamiliar voice cursing, British-accented and female, and a curvaceous blonde in gold and red --//wow, great rack//--came around the corner, hauling Kory's unconscious body by an arm, eyes up and alert and //oh, shit// a gun in her hand. He couldn't see her eyes widen for the mask, but her forearm tensed and he went sideways and rolled, bolting back down the hallway and through the stairwell door.

He slung his bow over his back and vaulted the railing to drop a floor and head out that way, running the plans of the building through his head, betting he knew it better than she could... and //aw hell, how the fuck?// he was wrong as he discovered three floors --//main floor, almost there//-- and eight minutes later when a bullet ricocheted off the wall not a foot from his head. "Now just stop. I'm not supposed to hurt you," came that same British voice, "unhappy as that makes me." 

//What the?!// He turned towards her slowly, palming a blade off his far hip, starting to raise his other hand in surrender--and flung the blade, catching her high in the shoulder of her gun (right) hand and moved again. Dead run, no need for stealth after that scream, twisting his body around the corner just in time to go face-first into one yellow boot and fall. //One of the girls that got Shift, god, you're familiar, who are you, who told me about you?// 

He went for another blade, trying to get back up, and the space between spike-heel and the ball of her foot dropped hard around his wrist, trapping it with her full weight. Barely a heartbeat later, her copy dropped a foot over his other wrist, pinning him flat against the ground. One knelt long enough to slice the string and pull his bow out from under him--he was almost grateful for that--then the other got the quiver and the rest of his weapons with expert hands.

He looked between their bodies, past them, and saw first Grace's body, then Thunder's //still breathing, thank gods//, Turtle and Bane standing close over them. Shift's container was close by and he could see him trying to form into something that would free him, //Good, keep trying, I know there's not much chance, god, Dick where are you?// He kept looking, and found Mirror Master standing over Jade's still body, looking far too smug. //Turned her power back on her..//

He heard the angry click of a set of heels behind him and tensed against the strike he could hear coming in the harshness of her breathing, twisted around to look towards the enraged curve of her lips as she pulled her leg back--//this is going to hur--//--and got a perfect view of an arch of whistling silver steel as it gashed through the armor she was wearing. It cut deep into her thigh all the way across and glanced off the wall with a harsh, metallic noise. Startled, he twisted his head to watch the curve of that flight, and when a dark-gloved hand snapped casually out of the shadows to catch it, silver blur stilled into the familiar shape of one of 'Wing's shuriken, hope made his heart damned near skip a beat, //Took you lo--//

Then he stepped fully into the light, and every bit of hope he'd had ran out of him like water. That wasn't Wing's suit, wasn't him--but the body was, that looked like his lover, even in the blood-red and black wrongness of that armor. Even his face looked right, if you ignored the vicious smile on his lips as he took another step forward, moving with the lazily confident grace he hadn't seen from his lover since before Donna died... //C'mon, short pants, clue me in, give me something...// 

His eyes flashed towards Bane and Turtle, expecting both of them to react to the sudden appearance of one of the best and brightest the hero community had ever had--and they stayed still, merely watching. A numb, sick fear was starting to build in his chest as he watched his lover pass unimpeded and with only a single, uncaring glace at their bloodied, half-broken teammates, and still... the cool, uncaring tone in Dick's low, calm voice as he said, "Lady Vic, where's Starfire?" took him by surprise.

"Out cold upstairs, I had to leave her to chase your boy here," hate was thick in her voice, but he couldn't tell about who, not with the way pain was twisting it... and that, of itself, was worrying. Dick never hurt someone that badly accidentally--or a human that badly on purpose. He could almost hear the blood hitting the floor not a foot behind him, and tension crawled through him. His legs were free, he could get free of the pinning feet, but... there was no point, not disarmed and with the blonde (Lady Vic--didn't she try to kill Dick?) behind him with the guns and Bane and Turtle not twenty feet away. He'd be shot or broken before he could do more than get to his feet, and he wasn't about to die on his baby girl. Vic was still talking, "--that good a lay, tha--"

"Yes, about that," his entire body froze at that gentle, icy tone as Dick cut through her ranting--he knew that voice, knew what it meant when Dick went into that still, perfect, liquid-nitrogen cold--Dick was fighting a hell of a rage, and his target was in serious trouble, "I thought I'd made it perfectly plain that no-one but me touches him..."

//Hu-uh?// He felt his own jaw go slack as he watched Dick get closer, saw the anger hidden under the easy, liquid grace of every perfectly balanced step. He moved to go around the twin on his left to step almost into the blonde's space, and Roy couldn't see him anymore, couldn't twist his head far enough to see what was happening, but he heard the soft song of steel clearing leather again and tensed, waiting, absolutely certain now that something was horribly, horribly wrong. He didn't want to look, didn't want to see what had brought on her sudden, choked breath. 

"Y-you did," Lady Vic stammered, and the fear in the assassin's voice frightened him. "I wasn't going to hurt him--" She'd barely finished the sentence when the hard sound of armor hitting armor echoed in the quiet room and she wheezed for breath, sounding like she was trying not to scream.

"You shot at him. You don't shoot to miss. Don't lie to me, Vic." Roy could hear the unspoken, 'It annoys me, and you don't want to do that' plain as if Dick--//this can't be Dick, it can't//--had said it aloud.

"Fuck you," was her sharp, harsh retort, "you can't hide behind your new Daddy forever, Ni--" 

The name was broken by her sudden, high scream, and Roy was dead certain he didn't want to know what Dick had done. 

"The name, is Renegade, Elaine. I won't tell you again. I'm not hiding behind anyone. Though," the sudden shift to a light, considering tone at that word was terrifying for the quicksilver mood it implied, and Roy tensed up again, trying to put the pieces of this together fast enough and failing completely as Dick kept talking. "I will be certain to tell Slade what you think of him..." 

He'd never heard that much fear in someone trying not to scream with pain as she started to beg him not to do that, that she didn't mean it--and the absolute sincerity in her voice scared him almost as badly the use of Slade and Daddy in relation to Dick did. Almost. //No, no Dick, please no...// After a moment he heard Dick laugh--if something that cutting could ever be called a laugh when it came from Robin's throat--just before the heavy sound of a body hitting the floor behind him pulled another cry of pain from Lady Vic's throat, close enough that he could feel it against his hair.

"Ali, Margot, let him up," Di--Renegade, damn it--ordered, and the women standing over his wrists moved, watching him warily as he stayed still. He couldn't move. This wasn't making enough sense for him to even try to move. He couldn't predict what D-Renegade was going to do well enough to even start to try moving, not without some clue to tell him what the fuck was going on... 

A red-gloved, blood-streaked hand wrapped around his bicep as -Renegade, damn it, crouched fluidly beside him silently, saying 'up' with the pressure of his fingers between bicep and tricep, other hand sliding under his shoulder-blade and before he knew it he was on his feet. He stood there for a long moment, shaken by what he'd just let happen, and his head snapped back defiantly, turning, eyes narrowed at the //in my colors// red-and-black clad figure holding his arm. This close, it was impossible to mistake Dick's clean-cut, gorgeous features under the wrong-shaped, wrong-colored mask--the concern written in the corners of his mouth, over and above the carefully calm expression was enough to make Roy suck in a harsh breath, fighting with everything he had to keep quiet, keep a lid on his temper until Dick could fucking explain.... 

"Elegantly done," came another, hated voice from behind him, sounding both satisfied and proud, and Roy watched Dick suddenly smile over his shoulder, the kind of true, proud smile he hadn't seen in so long, the one that used to come out when Batman would say something like that... Seeing it at Slade's voice, at the assassin's praise--was so wrong he couldn't even think of the words, and it terrified him all over again. Dick could lie with his mouth, but never with his body and his pleasure at the praise--//for betraying us, Dick? What the fuck?!//--was entirely too evident. "I had my doubts, but you put this together nicely. Double Dare. Go fetch Starfire, and see to patching up Lady Vic. She might still be useful." 

"Yes, sir," came from the two in yellow, and now he knew what to call them. He heard them moving, heard Lady Vic gasp after sounds of movement, and he couldn't look anywhere but at Dick's jaw. He didn't want to see any of this, didn't really want to see that smile, either, but it was better than the alternati--

"Renegade. Take him and go. You don't need to stay." Slade spoke again, and Renegade nodded quickly, back in motion before the words even died into silence. Roy struggled against the pull of his hand for a moment, more out of instinct than intention, until Dick's voice hissed into his ear, hot with annoyance, "Stop fighting me, damnit," and toes slammed into a nerve group in his left calf, making him stagger--it turned into a step, and another. D--Renegade was moving quickly, pulling him towards the nearest exit not blocked by Lady Vic, and he couldn't help wondering why the hell he was in such a hurry... Then he heard a familiar, metallic click--//safety off//--and the ratchet of a slide being racked--//oh, god NO//--"Dick?!" he hissed the exclamation, confused and shocked and baffled as to why he wasn't on the floor with the others, waiting for a bullet-- 

"Shut up and don't look back," was the low, harsh retort and Renegade slammed the door open, then shut behind them with his free hand. Even HQ's soundproofing couldn't completely muffle the gunshot. //God, who?// Someone was dead. Slade didn't do flesh wounds. He couldn't help the nasty smile at the way red-clad shoulders jerked at the sound. //Good. Fucking feel guilty, you sold us out, you knew what would happen!// 

The thought made him angry enough to take the swing, hard roundhouse punch straight at his jaw without anything to telegraph it--and he knew he was in trouble when the block was there before Dick could possibly have reacted and the force of it sent a jarring shock up the length of his arm. No time to wonder how if he wanted a shot at getting out of this, though. The hand around his bicep let go--//weird//--and he struck again, hard kick aimed into Renegade's ribs. It, too, was blocked with an uncannily fluid speed and he moved, radically changing positions, trying to take Dick off-guard--and a nerve-strike deadened one arm before he even saw it coming. Arm disabled, he kept moving, suddenly feeling like he was fighting a... //a god damned meta// as he watched Renegade. Still Dick's style, but faster, more fluid, more vicious... The combination of that and Slade clicked like pieces of a puzzle--//oh, Dick, no, you didn't?//

The momentary distraction was all his adversary needed and Roy heard a second gunshot as he fell to a second nervestrike, the awful thought following him down into the cold blackness. 

*** 

The slow, repetitive stroke of a hand down his shoulder and arm pulled Roy back to consciousness, despite his struggle to stay asleep, stay in the safety of a dream-world where the last several hours had never happened--then Dick's voice slid over his ears, low and sweet. "I know you're awake, Roy." 

The voice, the statement, were both so normal that Roy opened his eyes and twisted to look at Dick, eyes widening at the sight that met his eyes. He'd almost thought they were safe, for a moment. Dick was half-laying against a pile of pillows in the center of a truly massive bed--he'd been resting on half of one of them, apparently--sprawled in an indolent lounge with his left hand still on his shoulder, dressed in some ink-black material that was perfectly tailored to display the fantastic body Roy'd never stopped wanting. The sleeveless vest-thing, collared and unbuttoned to halfway down his sternum, displayed gymnast's musculature so damned perfectly--//it's a good loo--shut up and focus, damn it.// "Where ar--" 

He shook his head, black hair moving against the crimson red of the pillows, "Don't bother asking. Roy, I can't tell you." The look on his face was one Roy couldn't quite place. It looked like it was based in spoiled-rich-kid, but there was a harder edge to it than Dickie Grayson had ever worn--yet it was too supremely self-confident to belong on the cop, too open for Nightwing, and nothing at all like Robin... He didn't know who this was on the bed with him, and that scared him again. 

"Can't or won't, Dick? There was a time you could tell me anything," god he sounded bitter, even to his own ears, but steady, bright blue eyes never wavered from his face. 

"Some of both, actually, but mostly can't, in the "am not allowed to" sense." Dick's hand slid up his shoulder, in toward his throat and Roy jerked away, twisting to kneel up on the bed out of range of Dick's hand. //Not Dick, damn it. Not my Dick. (gonna call him by codename in bed?) Fuck...//

""Allowed"? By who, Slade? Dick, what the hell are you thinking, man, what's gotten into you?!" He was hoping, praying, for some kind of answer that would make sense of the reality he was trapped in, the reality where Dick Grayson, Batman's first Robin, would ever allow his friends to die--god, he couldn't go there, couldn't allow himself the luxury of mourning in bed with their killer.

'That it was long past time I stopped trying to pretend Bruce gave a damn about me." 

He couldn't believe his ears, couldn't believe that Dick could still lie there so utterly unconcerned as he nonchalantly admitted to throwing his entire life, and everything they'd ever been to each other, away. "So, what, you just suddenly decided to say the hell with it to over a decade of your life and went evil? Why?! Why for once in your life couldn't you have said fuck it all and come home?!" 

He had half a second's warning, written in the shift of Dick's shoulders, and suddenly he was flat on his back with Dick's weight hard on his chest, pinning him down, Dick's hand pressing down hard on his right shoulder, other hand resting against the bed, blue eyes hot, "Becau--" the best chance he'd had of getting a real answer vanished as Dick stopped, and shook his head. "Don't, Roy. Just don't... I was in too deep. Slade pulled me out, put me back on my fee--"

"Dick, you better than anyone know there's always poison in anything that son of a bit--" Dick's tongue was suddenly in his mouth, lips sealed over his hot and urgent and he struggled, tossing his head against the covers--//NO!// He bit at Dick's tongue, shoving the heels of both hands up into his lover's ribs hard, //NOT like this!/ Dick yanked his mouth away, barely reacting to the hits that should have knocked the breath out of him, his eyes blazing black fury--and pain blazed through his jaw as Dick slapped him, hard, fire lancing from his ear to the corner of his mouth, the crack lost in the sound of Dick's voice and eyes gone cold again, "Don't. You're mine, Roy. That's the only reason you're still alive." 

He felt his jaw drop open, staring up at this man who was nothing like his lover in shock, trying to put those words into an order and context he understood. His head shook in disbelief, negation, and he stammered, "Wh-what?" 

"You're mine," and the hand that petted down his flaming cheek was agonizingly gentle, at odds with the coolness still in his voice. "When we were approached to take out the Outsiders, I told Slade you were my price. That you're mine, and no-one hurts you. We... discussed it a while, but he finally agreed. As long as you're mine, you're safe."

"I'm not yours. The man I was with is as dead as the rest of my team." Only the surety that there could be nothing left of his laughing-eyed lover in the cold, hard-voiced stranger pressed up against his body let him snarl that in defiance of that hungry possessiveness, try to pull away from that caressing hand... To absolutely no avail, his hand just followed his cheek, cupping hard around his jaw, forcing him to meet those cold blue eyes again... If he had any sense, the look there would have cowed him--but he'd never been the smart one. 

He moved, twisting to throw him off his body towards the floor, willing to hit it himself if necessary, slamming an elbow up and in full-force. He heard a crack at the impact even as the force of his roll pushed them off the edge of the bed--and somehow in the second they were in the air Dick twisted, flowing like water around his body and Roy wound up eating plush carpet with a hundred and seventy-odd pounds of lethally furious unhinged ex-hero kneeling over his spine, weight all on his back, pushing the breath out of him--and he'd managed to land solidly on his arms. /How in the hell did he do tha--//

"God damn it," hit his ears from a voice still icy in rage and he felt Dick's weight shift, felt him reach up--to the frame of the bed, and heard the soft noise of steel clearing leather, freezing at that sound in this man's presence. //Dick don't please...// 

"Hold still," he was ordered, and could do nothing but, not with Dick using that tone, tone his body couldn't help reacting to, much as he tried to hide the shiver that ran down his spine. He lay still, wary and wondering... then heard the sounds of a blade being deftly slicing his armor open at the seams, felt the cold kiss of the back of the blade--//two-edged, Dick always--// against his back at troublesome spots, and by the time Dick slit open the shoulders he was just trying not to shake out of mingled anger and fear and lust--damn the son of a bitch, he knew... 

The weight on his back lifted, Dick moving to push the destroyed top away, leaving him laying on the remnants of it, then he paused a long moment, thighs curved hard all along his sides, weight settled on the small of his back. "Roy, you've always been mine." Flat declaration as a hand petted from the bottom of his shoulder-blades up to lay hard against the back of his neck, thumb against his carotid and fingers curved down past his jugular vein, thumb stroking, "and always will be." 

Roy sucked in a breath, intending to deny it again--and Dick's hand tightened hard, making him shake in reaction despite himself. God, how long had it been since Dick sounded like he wanted him at all, let alone held him with that kind of strength and possessed him so com--//This is NOT your lover!// his mind screamed, and he just shuddered, caught between desires... That seemed to satisfy the pushy son of a bitch over him, and Roy felt him twist and lean backwards, reaching for something, by the shifts of his weight. After a moment of various soft noises, "Give me your left wrist." 

"If you think I--" He might not be able to fight this, but that didn't mean he had to help--and the anger was helping to burn away all of the need Dick's presence always built in him, had already made so thick it was hard to breathe for the need (and the hurt).

"Give me your wrist, or I'll knock you out again, Roy. I'm not going to let you hurt yourself."

Same possessive, demanding tone as always, though Roy could hear the ice in it, and his body couldn't help reacting to it, just like he'd reacted to the blade, still trying to hide the depth of his reaction--he knew he'd meant the threat. He couldn't stand the thought of this stranger's hands on him when he couldn't react, wouldn't remember--so he lifted enough to free his arm, push his wrist back to the small of his back, rolling that shoulder to ease it, already knowing what was going to happen and he wanted so badly to say no, to say Bruce's name and get Dick to stop, at least long enough to make him understand why, but... //What if he doesn't? I... If I say no, and he--I can't. If I don't... it's not...//

Dick's fingers ran over the veins at his wrist so gently, touch that had always sent flame blazing through him--and now was no different, not with the fire already burning in his body from the blade...//God damn it...// The hand stayed there for long, long moments, just stroking his wrist in this uncanny silence--then the possessive fingers slipped away and he shuddered as he felt leather brush along his forearm--and cold metal slide against the small of his back. Then Dick locked the cuff closed and he felt every inch of it, half again the width of his hand and perfectly fitted to grip his arm close as skin--//he planned this, but we never--// They'd never used steel, first for lack of spare cash, then for lack of time, that Dick would go for steel now...

He felt Dick move his arm, bend it to lay his hand palm-up just over his right kidney and shivered at the cold steel laying heavy against his skin, cool leather pressed into his wrist in the worst kind of tease--

"Right hand, Roy." 

His nails bit into his hand hard as he fought not to just give in, to let this stranger with his lover's voice and knowledge and body take over--but this wasn't his lover, his beloved, giving in to this Dick would betray everything they'd ever had....

"Roy, now," and his wrist was in Dick's hand before he even realized the intent to move. He'd obeyed that command-voice for too many years under too many conditions to fight it--and suddenly hated the fact. Dick moved this arm, now, laid his hand above his left forearm and locked the other cuff around it, then there were two harshly metallic clinks in his ears along with a slight shift of the cuffs-- //He locked them together,// he realized, and jerked his right wrist up, left down, testing... He was right. The sudden yank had almost no effect, other than the sudden bite of steel rims into his wrists that made him shake--they were locked tight together. 

"Roy," Dick's voice lengthened on the 'o', changing pitches to chide him, "Did you really think I'd be so careless?" He shuddered at that light tone--it'd always meant Dick at his most dangerous, most unpredictable, and that scared him more now than it ever had. 

"I could hope," came out bitterly, savagely fast and without any impediment from his brain. The only response was a shake of Dick's head that he felt in the shift of his weight, then a long, caressing cup of Dick's hand that down his left side, from just below his arm down towards his hip, the touch blatantly possessive, everything he'd ever needed from his lover--and everything he didn't want now, not with Dick turned into this cold, dangerous stranger. He shifted, trying to get away from the touch, and Dick's hand just slid over the waist of his pants, fingers slipping along the curve of his hip--long, slow tease, something Dick'd always loved to do to him because of the way it made him move--and he shifted against the touch despite himself, hating himself for not being able to not react. 

Dick's fingers suddenly left, the weight on his back shifted, vanished and relief warred with fear and panic for long heartbeats in the silence of the room, then hands were on his ankle, working at his boot to pull it off, then the other went, too, along with the socks, Dick's touch gentle as he slipped them away. //He's--// he couldn't even think it, just let the disgust and fear be enough, //and he's worried about my socks?! Of all the fucked up--// 

Hands petted up his legs over the armor and he could feel Dick's body move, follow the hands that stroked up the backs of his thighs, over his ass and higher, up and in along the line of the pants--then things changed, Dick's knee settled against his ribs and hands slid hard under his chest and thighs, forearms flexing as if Dick was going to--

\--lift him, he realized in utter disbelief. Strong as Dick was, he'd never been able to do that--//Sure as hell not this easy, he didn't even breathe hard!// The thought flashed through his mind as Dick stood, apparently easily, holding him tight as somehow Dick put him on his feet in the transition upwards, hand that had been under his thighs now curved around his right hip, hand under his chest holding him back against Dick's body, cold of the cuffs pressed hard into his spine and Dick's abs. The realization slammed into him suddenly. //He really did. He took the fucking serum, the supersoldier drug that made Slade... He's meta, now--god, is he still insane?// It was awful that the thought actually gave him some hope about this. If the drug was still messing with Dick's head, the choices weren't really his...

The hand on his hip slid in again, going without a trace of hesitation for the snap and zipper of the pants, popping the snap and pulling the zipper down slowly, teasingly, chin hooked over his shoulder and hot skin against his back as the hand on his chest petted its way own to hook in the left side of his waistband and he lost the struggle not to beg Dick to stop. "Dick, don't, I don't want--" 

Dick's hand slid into the open pants, cupped around his already-erect cock through the briefs and stroked, cutting off his voice with a gasp and Roy shuddered as his body reacted, throbbing against that so-familiar touch. //Dick, damn it..// 

"Yes, you do, Roy... you're mine, you know it, and you want me..." was whispered against his neck as Dick stroked him again, the aching perfection of that knowing caress marred by the situation, by that his lover would never ignore his request to stop. Dick kissed his throat gently, right where his collar ought to be, and both hands caught the waist of the pants and pushed down, taking the briefs with them. Dick then caught them with a foot and pulled them the rest of the way down. "Step out of them," came the command, and Roy hesitated a long moment, unwilling to help Dick r--force this. 

"Stubborn son of a--" and Dick moved, coming to his side without ever breaking the press of their bodies and Roy saw all that black //shadow// danger from the corner of his eye as Dick moved again, hands impacting his body and Dick lifted him again and tossed him into the center of the bed, face landing in a pillow this time. He had just enough time to bend his knees a little before he hit, not liking the thought of landing flat, not considering how har--

He heard a soft, triumphant noise from the side of the bed and realized how that must look. He dropped flat on the bed and shuddered at the feel of cold duvet against hot skin, shifting as he felt Dick... flow, there was no other word for it, onto the bed and push the pants off his ankles--off the bed entirely, by the sound of armor hitting carpet--then shift up until he was laying against his side, hand stroking down his right arm possessively. "God, you look so good." That hand kept moving, caressing, and Roy shuddered.

The hunger in Dick's voice almost broke his resistance, might have if that thread of ice wasn't still there to remind him they were laying in a bed he'd never seen with the blood of their entire team shed between them, if Dick hadn't turned on everything they'd ever stood for and believed by binding himself to Slade fucking Wilson like this... He shuddered, pressing his cheek into the pillows and tried to make himself stop reacting to the touch of Dick's hands, to the hungry confidence in those hands--but as Dick petted over his body, caressed down his back, tried to rub the tension out of his bound shoulders... He couldn't help but react, couldn't help moving into the touches, biting his lip 'til it bled to keep from moaning, unwilling to give him that much satisfaction when this was so very wrong.... Dick left one hand lay on his shoulder as he moved again, leaning sideways to reach for the dresser--and the soft (familiar) clink of metal (rings) made him whimper softly. //no, dick please no, don't... please let me be wrong...// 

"I just realized you're missing something," Dick said from beside him again as something light dropped out of a hand to land on the bed, changing the feel of it for a moment, and the breath froze in his throat //No...// before the leather even touched his throat--but it did. The silken feel of the kidskin lining sliding lightly over his neck was almost enough to bring him to tears--this stranger in his lover's body was going to taint even this, take the mark of his willing submission and turn it into an owner's brand… god, it hurt. 

"Mine, Roy," the whisper was gentle, loving as he pulled the collar properly tight and locked it--//not quite right, doesn't fit right not Mine oh thank you gods// Dick's hands slid back down his body, casually possessive, and Roy tried not to shake. //NO. I'm not... I'm not...//

Dick kept caressing him, hands sliding all over his back, over the cuffs binding his arms over his spine, over his ass--there over and over again--long, strong fingers slipping down between his legs to stroke his balls and the base of his cock... He struggled not to buck into the touch that was still so perfect, still exactly the right pressure and grip to make him want to scream, set his breath to racing and lightening through his blood, and he heard Dick's voice say softly, 'That's right... that's right, my own, move for me, yes..." 

The sound of Dick's pet name for him nearly broke him, more than the physical reaction to Dick's touch ever could--he'd had no chance against a Dick enhanced by the serum, and Dick knew his body and heart as intimately as was humanly possible, that Dick could make him react was no surprise, but--hearing that name now, from the killer laying beside him... He sobbed, shaking, and Dick's body and other arm wrapped around him, still wrapped in (death) black, voice in his ears, "Roy, it's all right, it's okay. You're safe, you're mine... You're mine, it's okay, you're okay..." Kisses feathered along the back of his neck as Dick pulled him closer, tighter, held him in arms that could now literally break him...

"No, I'm not... you're not my 'Wing, not anymore, and I don't--" he had to protest, take one last stab at stopping this with the only weapon he had against this stronger/faster/lethal version of his lover; his voice. 

"You're right, I'm not. I'm better, and you're still mine. You belong with me, to me." Flat, calmly certain voice as he pulled away somewhat, sat back a little to slide his fingers over his entrance, rubbing gently--and Roy shuddered, shaking his head in violent negation, "Dick, please, talk to me first, make me understa--" he gave up the fight and begged, praying there was enough of his lover left to listen. 

"I can't, you have to be mine, I can't protect you if you're not mine--"

The words would be so easy to say, he'd said them dozens of times... but they'd be a lie, and Dick had always know when he was lying... "I... please, Dick, do--" The end of the sentence was cut off by Dick's other hand over his mouth hard, muffling it into nothingness.

"I wish I could, my own, but you have to be mine..." The hand on his mouth slipped away and a moment later the 'pop' of a tube of slick opening hit his ears, made him shudder and try to get away--useless, but he couldn't just... 

A single, slick finger slid into him, too gentle to be this much of a violation and he fought a sob again, feeling hot dampness under his cheeks as Dick's finger slid fully into him, hand rocking gently as he started to stretch him--and Roy thought it would be easier if Dick just took him, if he didn't have to feel the loving gentle possessiveness in every touch... but Dick was never the type to be less than thorough. His body clenched down against that finger, saying 'no' again that way, and Dick's other hand stroked over his shoulder gently while his finger shifted, rocking in an arch that slid over his prostate--and that made him gasp and buck and open up, hating himself for it, hands clenched into tight fists as Dick turned his own body against him.

"God, so good..." Dick whispered to him, pressed up against his hip and side as his hand moved again, and again, and another, well-slicked finger slid into him so fucking easily on the next push of Dick's hand--his body wanted this, wanted his lover back, wanted to feel Dick again and it wasn't listening to his heart anymore, not when Dick was teasing him with his fingers, making his hips buck and his breath catch and god, he was never going to stop hating himself but it felt so good...

He let his body rock against Dick's hand, felt Dick slide another finger into him, spreading him open wider, more than was really necessary, then Dick's hand slid away, leaving him empty and aching and so very relieved--until he heard the sound of buttons coming undone, felt the bed shift as Dick did something with the shirt, and it shifted again as the noise of the zipper was suddenly shockingly loud in the silence of the room, and again as Dick stretched out beside him again. He felt the touch of a kiss on his shoulder as the wet sound of Dick slicking himself made need and shame both boil in his heart, and shuddered as Dick moved again and he felt the pressure of Dick's knees against his inner thighs.. Then Dick started to push his legs apart with his knees, spreading him open as he knee-walked up the bed--familiar again, but Roy'd never tried so hard to fight that demand in his life. Just like everything else he'd tried to stop this, Dick ignored it, just upping the pressure until Roy couldn't help but spread--

"Good, my own..." he felt Dick's hands on the cuffs, then, felt and heard the click as he released one wrist and pushed it up towards the pillows //wha?// Then the question was answered as another click locked something to the cuff. He pulled against it, and felt the yank of a tether--//probably to the headboard//--then Dick was moving his other hand. Another click and he was chained down to the headboard-and it was chain--held spread-eagled by Dick's body between his legs... and he hated the surge of lust that brought, the way this was playing to his kinks, how it could have been so different and so good if onl--

Dick's weight was suddenly heavy on his shoulders, one hand stroking his side, the other--was guiding his cock as Dick rolled his hips to push into him and Roy clawed at the sheets as Dick proved his possession, held him face-down in the bed and slid hilt-deep in one long push. //How can this feel so good and so wrong? he wondered as Dick gasped against his neck and rolled his hips, moving long and slow and deep--his own body betraying him, still moving with his lover's touch...

Dick was talking to him, saying something he could hardly hear past the blood in his ears, but, it was... "I love you. ...I love you... I love you..." every time his hips pressed fully against his ass, broken by the slow pace and the kisses Dick was pressing to his neck with every move--and it made him want to scream, sob, break... Words he'd treasured more than anything because of their rarity and now they fell so easily?

He heard himself cry, gasping wracking sob that shook his entire body and both of Dick's arms curled around him tight, lifting him back against that so-strong known body, voice in his ear again, "Shh, shh, it's all right, I love you I've got you I'm not letting go, it's going to be all right..." 

Those words, that promise, everything all he'd ever wanted, someone that was going to stay said all the desperate love and possession in Dick's voice--Roy shuddered with sobs for another breath, and another, feeling part of himself die as he just.. gave up… "Then fuck me, Sir..." //Love me hard enough I forget what you did, please...// 

That last word echoed aloud without his consent, and he heard his master's voice ring with triumph as he spoke, "Since you asked so nicely..." and Dick's hands slid off his body to brace under him on the bed, "up on your knees, my own…" 

Dick's weight changed to let him slide up onto his knees, changing positions without ever sliding out of him, and Roy wrapped his hands around the chains as he braced under him, hips rolling back against Dick hungrily, needing him so badly it burned through his veins. He tossed his head, wiping the ears away on the pillow--and felt the bite of the collar against his throat with a shock that ran straight to his cock as it reminded him whose he was. He shuddered, and Dick's hips rocked hard into him, deep and sure and faster and harder, perfect pace to drive the thoughts from his mind--

\--and it didn't take long at all before he was begging, chains cutting imprints into his hands as he begged Dick to let him come, begged for more.

A hand--left--slid under his body, wrapped around the aching length of his cock and squeezed, "Say it."

"Say wha--"

"Say it, you know what I want to hear."

He did, suddenly, and he shuddered as he said it, "I'm yours. I'm yours, Sir, Dick, I'm yours, please, please..." 

"Come for me, my own," Dick said as he stroked his thumb over the slit and rolled his hips hard, driving his length into his sweet spot and he heard himself scream as he lost it, bucking hard and erratic into Dick's hand mindlessly, all thought gone...

…until he realized he was laying down again--//in the wet,//--Dick's hot, sweat-slick body draped over him like a warm, living blanket as his lover panted for air and held him close. He could feel the jackhammer rate of Dick's pulse in the cock still buried inside him and he moaned softly... it took a minute to realize that Dick must have come with him or he wouldn't be so out of control, and that pleased him, made him half-smile against the pillow and lie still. Dick wasn't that heavy--and he really had no reason in the world to move... //What about your daughter?// a voice whispered from the back of his mind and he froze, suddenly terrified--and Dick's voice was in his ears in less than a heartbeat. 

"What, Roy, what is it, what's wrong my own?" The sudden, honest concern was like balm to his soul and he answered quickly. 

"Lian... is she--"

Dick stroked a shoulder and he felt a smile against the other one, "She's fine, Roy. Rose went to get her, she's perfectly safe. No-one's going to hurt her, not when it would mean angering all of us--and Slade promised. You know how much he hates Chesh--did you really think I'd let anything happen to her?" 

Sudden anger flared deep in his heart but he shoved it down, back, refusing to let it surface, and he shook his head. "I, no, but... I'm her father..."

"A good one, too. She's fine. Rose will protect her." 

Roy let himself relax at that promise. The girl was talented, and if Slade had given his word... "Dick... you said I was your price, but how..."

He heard his lover sigh softly, felt the caress of his hand over his hair, "Slade... can be reasoned with, if you know how. I do. I just had to prove you were mine, and you're safe. He protects his family, after all. You know that." 

Dick slowly moved, hissing as he pulled away, then gentle hands twisted the locks of the cuffs open and Dick lay back down, gathering him against his body and pulling him out of the wet spot. Roy curled close, basking in the contract, in the long, slow caresses down his back as he watched Dick's jaw, slowly cooling down. He wanted desperately to ask "why me, why not Kory"?--but at the same time, he already had the only answer he would likely get. He belonged to Dick, in ways the fiery Tamaranian never could--//never would (shut up!)// 

He lay against him, almost cooled off enough to want to slide under the covers--and Dick twisted to lift them, slithering under them and holding them up. Roy slid in and pressed up against him again, catching himself yawning... He glanced up at Dick, who smiled at him indulgently, "Go to sleep, Roy. If I'm not here, don't worry. Slade might need me, but I'll be back."

"Wake me when Lian gets here?" 

"Sure. She'll want to see you." Dick's hand stroked over his hair gently, and Roy just cuddled against him, knee over Dick's legs and palm against his heart, letting the strong, steady beat of his heart lull him into sleep.

***

Halfway across the house, in the suite of computers that ran and observed the mansion and its grounds, Slade smiled to himself in complete and utter satisfaction, watching his boy gentle his pet into sleep. "Masterfully done, my boy. Masterfully done."

Watching his boy dominate, possess, and finally break the stubborn redhead had been amazing, perfect proof that his chosen was his--he couldn't have done it better himself, after all. 

"I'll have to make sure you don't get too cocky about this, but you deserve a little time of your own..." With that, he saved the hour-odd of video, then cleared the feed. If Dick wanted it, it was there, but his curious daughter didn't need to see that. Finished, he checked the perimeter out of habit, and went to wait for his daughter and the newest member of his small family.


	2. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dick makes his deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Precedes "Broken Past, Darker Futures"

_Before the strike against the Outsiders_

Dick never looked away from Rose at the sound of the door slipping open, frowning as she lost the flow and tried to force her way through the basic sequence, "Rose stop. You can't power through this, it's not judo. If you don't get this right, you'll break something when you try to do the more advanced moves. Take a minute, unwind a little, and try it again. Everything builds from this, it has to be as easy as breathing." 

"Take an hour, Rose. Dick, I need you." At those commands from Slade's voice, Dick was in motion, turning to look at Slade with a curious tilt of his head. "What's up?" 

"Business. Time for you to start earning your keep. Rose, no practicing that without Dick here. You owe me an analysis of 'The Book of War', and I haven't seen you working on it," he reminded her.

"Da-addy!" Dick had to work to hide a smile at her whine, he remembered hating the book-work more than anything, but it was critically important, and she needed to learn it. The intricacies of tactics, strategy, and the history of conflict were even more important for someone in their profession than it had been for him. 

"It and the 'Book of Five Rings'. By the end of the week." The 'for whining at me' might as well have been verbal. 

"So, are we talking here, or otherwise?" Dick asked, wondering what the sheaf of papers in Slade's hand was all about with a flare of fear. 

"Conference room. There's something of a rush on this, we'll need the space to plan." 

Dick nodded and turned to head out the door, squelching the worry that tried to surface. He'd known this day was coming, the day Slade would test his loyalty the first time. //Don't let it be Tim. Please, not my baby brother.// He pushed the door open and held it, then followed Slade to the table, sat down--and shock ripped through his heart as Slade flipped the folder open and let the photographs slip across the table with that soft, glossy rustle. 

//The Outsiders...// the thought was dizzy with shock. //My team... oh, oh gods... Focus, Dick,// the ruthless, brutal part of himself that Slade had awakened snapped into his mind, pulling his posture to perfection as he settled himself to negotiate this test.

"Our target. We're being paid a truly impressive sum to eliminate them. I think you have some useful knowledge." 

"I do." //I can't, I can't// "What was the exact wording of the contract?"

"It's in the folder, kid." 

Dick reached out, not letting his hand shake as it touched the photographs. He flipped through them to find the contract below, and read over it, lips pursing. "Your buyer wants the team eliminated, it says, not necessarily the mem--"

"Boy. Don't. No-one hires me to disable."

The warning in Slade's voice stopped him cold, made him drop any thought of trying to save his team--but maybe, just maybe, he could manage to save one. "I realize that. And I'll help you. Give you everything you need. The access codes, the camera placements, when they'll likely be asleep, full rundown on all of them, everything I know--but I want one thing, maybe two depending on how you look at it." 

"You're not saving your girl, boy. Forget it." The flat anger in Slade's voice would have surprised him... if he didn't remember Addie Kane begging for death.

"Not Kory. I know you won't let her go." He did... but that didn't make the need to dismiss her death any more horrible. //I'm sorry, Star,// he thought, heart aching, but he didn't have the time to grieve. Not now. Probably not ever, given how Slade would view that softness.

"Roy. Let me have him." His hand rested on the photograph he'd tried so hard NOT to notice, fingers splayed across his chest. "And his daughter, Lian. Let me protect her.

He saw Slade's eye widen, and nearly smiled at surprising him--but he kept it behind his eyes. There was no sense whatsoever in antagonizing him, not when he wanted something. No, he had to handle this so carefully...

"I was planning on you asking for Kory, kid--I'm surprised. Now, why don't you tell me why I ought to let anyone I've contracted to kill live. As to the kid, I think that can be arranged." 

A sudden thrill ran through him at the admission, and he could have cried for joy that he'd secured at least Lian's safety. If Slade said he'd do something, he did. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he'd truly startled this man... but Slade had never been more dangerous than on those few occasions. Dick didn't swallow hard, didn't allow his body to betray his desperation or his voice to tremble as he started trying to buy his best friend's life. "For one, he could be valuable. You know Roy's past almost as well as I do--you know what he's been. He's killed, and he'd do it again, with reason. He's smart, better with a gun than I am, and practical--when it counts. He--"

"And none of that is not why you're asking. Try again."

"May I finish, first?" he asked, eyes on Slade's cheekbone, trying to hang on to his composure. The cold implacability rolling off Slade was making it hard not to just beg--but this was a test.

"If you insist."

"All of his skills aside, he'd give you the appearance of a lever on Green Arrow, his son, Green Lantern, and Black Canary, for a start. Also, protecting Roy--and Lian--will infuriate the living hell out of Cheshire, which I know you'll enjoy. Then there's Lian... she shouldn't have to grow up without her father, right?" 

He worried, for a heartbeat, if that had struck to close to home for Slade, if it had reminded him of the way he'd lost the chance to raise his children, but Slade nodded--just barely--and Dick let himself breathe. "So, Kid. Keep talking. You still haven't told me the real reason."

//Damn it.// "He's my best frien--"

"Kid, you're a good liar, but not that good, and you're beginning to annoy me. You can give me all of the reasons you'd give other people later, but tell me right now why the idea of Harper dead is making you want to scream."

"Because he's mine," ripped out of his throat before he could stop it, and he took a deep breath before saying it again, softly, carefully. "He's mine. Slade, please." 

He never heard the movement, but Slade was suddenly beside him, hand tangled in his hair to pull his head back, force his eyes up to meet Slade's. "Yours? Yours, how, boy?" there was dark danger in that voice, but he faced it--he had to, for his lover's sake.

"He's..." he licked his lips. He'd never said this aloud, never told anyone just exactly what Roy was to him--and there was a terrifying sense of freedom in finally telling someone. "He's my lover. My submissive. My pet. He's mine. Slade, don't make me kill him..." He knew his eyes were begging, knew how wide they were... //please, please god don't make me kill my own.// 

Slade tilted his head, his single eye lit consideringly. "Yours, hmm? And Koriander isn't?"

"Kory was never mine the way Roy is, and hasn't been my girl in a long time. She... didn't understand that part of me. Roy always has. Sl--"

"Quiet. Let me think."

Dick went quiet, watching the flickers of expression as Slade thought--and every beat of his heart was a prayer, a single word, //please. please. please.// Eventually, the mercenary arched a brow. "Do you really think he'll still be yours, Renegade? After this?" 

The question lanced through him like a bolt, cut to the heart of his remaining fears, but he made himself answer firmly. "He's mine. He always wil be. I can bring him around." //Roy, don't prove me wrong, love...//

"Sure of that?" 

Oh, that was dangerous... "He's either mine... or he's just another hero. I won't let him go." //He'd never be just another hero, you can't mean that!// some small part of his mind screamed in denial, but Slade had to buy that, he had to sound like he meant it, like he'd rather kill his lover than lose him... 

And from the slow, almost proud smile on Slade's lips, he'd sounded enough like he meant it. 

"If you really think you can bring him over, I suppose I could stand for merely... acquiring... one Outsider. The contract doesn't specify the execution of all members, as you so cleverly noticed. And you're right, the boy does have quite a few useful skills--he might be good backup for Rose, she's not a shootist yet. Neither are you." 

"I know, but I'm learning..." He'd learned to shoot to be a cop--but never to the level of proficiency Slade and Roy wore so easily. Bruce's hatred of guns had run too deep through him until now. 

"Yes, you are... very nicely," he felt himself flush at the praise, trying to drop his eyes--and Slade's hand tightened again, pulling them back up. "Back on the topic of your pet. Let's get one thing very, very clear. I'll let you save him, but you. belong. to. me. You can play whatever games you want to with your boy, but you are mine. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Slade," he nodded as best he could with that hand tight in his hair. "We're clear. I'm yours, first and foremost." 

"Good boy," Slade loosened his grip, letting his head drop out of the painfully pulled-back hold, and stroked his hair. "Oh, and kid?"

Fear lashed through his spine at those light words. "Yes, Slade?" //What ace have you just drawn?//

"If he doesn't admit to being yours, if you haven't made him yours again, within twelve hours of the Outsiders' deaths... It's your responsibility to kill him. I'm not ready for you to be exposed yet, and I won't have an angry, bitter hero trying to escape my home. I also won't clean up your mess, if he's more devoted to his ideals than he is to you."

Agony lashed through him and he could feel part of himself begin to weep at the thought, but there was only one answer he could give. "Yes, Slade. I'll handle it--but it won't come to that." 

"We'll see." Slade didn't sound certain. "You've got your deal, boy. As long as the archer's yours and out of the fight, he and his daughter are part of the family. If you can't change his mind, he dies at your hand... but I think we'll keep his daughter. I wouldn't trust her mother to care for a whipped dog, after all." 

Only years and years of training kept Dick from breaking into tears of pure relief. "Thank you... thank you..." 

Slade stroked his hair again, down his cheek. "You can thank me properly later. Now, pull it together. We have a hit on a mainly-meta proactive strike team to plan, and it needs to go down in the next three days. One more thing... you're lead on the hit. So plan well."

Dick nodded, breathed, and sat up straight. "Who's available to tap? It would be do-able with the three of us, but I'd rather set metas on metas, honestly. Grace is a tank, and Thunder's just as bad. Jade's dangerous as hell if she has even a minute to react..." and he started planning out the death of the team Roy'd built from scratch on Batman's legacy. Fitting, somehow, that he would be the one to destroy it.


	3. Changing the Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade's musings as things lead to a new order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also precedes "Broken Pasts, Darker Futures"

_Just after negotiating with Dick_

Almost precisely an hour later, Slade sent Dick back to the gym, knowing Rose would be waiting within the next few minutes, and he wanted the time to think, in any case. His boy had startled him--how had he not seen this? A commitment that deep, that binding... how had he missed its existance? He took slow, steady breaths, casting his mind back over the years. Slowly, an acceptable answer emerged. Their respective behaviors with women were too... overt, too real and unforced, to be merely cover. Dick's adulation of Batgirl, then Starfire, had given the sure and certain impression that the boy had kept his desires to the... more conventional. Even his... unihibited and certainly nonvirginal reactions to their mating could be explained by the boy's naturally sensual side and a totally unihibited lover. He'd never even questioned where the kid had gotten the experience--he should have. As for Harper, well... the boy was truly his father's son, if you looked at the list of his conquests. Barring tha--the mother of his child, he even had more than decent tastes in women. When the tempestous, often outright antagonistic nature of the two's //on the surface// relationship was added to the mix of their entanglements, the idea that they'd formed a romantic relationship was almost laughable--and yet, it did make sense. They were so very similar in some ways, and so critically different in others, that they might indeed mesh well. 

A thought struck him, and it was actually an effort to remain still. //Dick may have claimed Roy as his pet, but... I would place money that he's played the submissive just as often.// Were he the type, he'd have cursed himself for vowing that the younger pair could play as they chose--the idea of his boy pliant to another's hands did not.. sit well. But he had, and he could not retract it. He would simply have to insure that he was available when Dick started to crave the simplicity of submission, and give him an utterly free hand in the matter of controlling his pet. That would do. 

He'd seen the terror, agony and desperation riding his boy despite the truly excellent attempt at composure, and had it been over Starfire he would have let him rage. The alien was simply too dangerous to let live--but Harper... he was right. The kid could come in handy, he had connections everywhere above and beyond the Titans, up through the League itself--and his eye heated at that thought. The Justice League had much to answer for, these days. Had had for a long, long time. He shook off those thoughts, they were for later, and returned to the question at hand. He'd let his boy save the archer not for his usefulness--though he appreciated the attempt to provide him with reasons, in a distant way--but because Dick would never have forgiven him for forcing the boy to betray that bond. He'd handled the acceptance of the contract on his lover and team with such complete grace... he'd earned the boon, and allowing him to salvage that single portion of his life would help the rift in him to heal. 

That matter addressed to his satisfaction, he turned to considering the new complications he'd allowed Dick to bring into his life. //Another girl... hopefully Rose will be happy, and not jealous. She has spent time with her, though, so it may not be an issue.//

//Three days, and the Outsiders die... Hm... now, what will this do, beyond the obvious? He reminded me. None of these children exist in vacuum, they all have ties... Starfire's death will devastate every last Titan, leaving them all vulnerable to the enterprising. Even the Flash will be distraught--there is value in that. Shift... not worth much consideration. Grace is a mystery, a cipher, street-rat. Nothing useful there. Thunder, on the other hand... Black Lightening will not take this well--it will be best for his enemies to lay low. That word can be easily passed. Jade. Jenny-Lynn. Her death will agonize the Sentinel... prostrate and enrage the old guard beyond belief, and that will take the younger ones along with them. So angry and dismayed, they would be much easier to disrupt. Hm. ...and with the two mortal members, Nightwing and Arsenal gone missing, not a trace of them to be found... tensions will be running very, very high--// alarm twinged through him, his eye widening slightly. //This house is not protected enough to bar a Lantern's searching... time to deal with the witch again, and soon.// 

Her name went to the top of the list of the calls he needed to make as he kept considering--and he heard Rose yelling, something profane she certainly hadn't learned from him. He frowned. She knew better--admittedly, she was still recovering from what his hands //son of mine, how could you?// had done to her, but that was not an excuse. //Perhaps living in such isolation, and with only Dick and I, is not the best situation for her... but she would be safe nowhere else. My daughter is not going to finish growing up into purely a tomboy.// That he would not have. //But who would possibly agree to serve as a role model for my daughter--that I could possibly trust far enough to allow her inside my home?//

Most of the women on the villain side of the fence, while predominantly stunningly attractive, were, bluntly, too deranged, too uncultured to be appropriate, too terrified of him, or entirely too steeped in their own goals and agendas to even be considered. How... frustrating. That left either some random civilian--his lip curled slightly at the very thought--or a heroine... //Riiight, Wilson. Who on the side of the angels would even consider--"a lever on Green Arrow, his son, Green Lantern, and Black Canary for a start"// His boy's voice whispered to him, level, but desperation deep under it as he bargained for Harper's life. //Black Canary... Dinah Lance.// The thought of the stubborn little spitfire was shocking in its intensity... but when his instincts spoke that loudly, it was wisest to listen. 

//Dinah, hmm? ...It could be done. She's fiercely devoted to her family, and when I have both Harper and his daughter beneath my roof, in my power...// He had no doubt of his boy's ability to control his lover, not after seeing his eyes. //She might give way.// The raven-haired woman hiding beneath the blonde dye... just might do nicely. She was well trained in several of the more feminine fighting arts, and had never lacked for poise, dignity, or quality. Of course, she had been part of that League... but the details were still unclear on what part she had played. Her love for the little girl might well keep her tamed, and if she knew there was no chance of Lian's father coming for either of them... Yes. She might do quite nicely. //Her word binds her, if she swears to care for my daughter and her godchild, she will do so. If she refuses... simply one more casualty of the war.// 

That settled, he began adding the variable of the Canary's disappearance to his listing of the fallout. //Green Arrow will be absolutely unhinged. Jordan likely not far behind. Oracle... hm. If I take her from beneath her very nose... it will throw even she off her stride... how very, very useful. Batman will be little better off--of course, he has more than enough to keep him overwhelmed as it is,// and his lips curved in a small, nasty smile at the thought of his coup against his only true rival within the hero community. //The Canary disappearing will rile the JSA yet more, especially coming so swiftly on the heels of Jade's death... This must be carefully, carefully done,// he warned himself. //Not a clue left to point to you, or you will lose this game spectacularly, and Dick along with it...// 

The dangers of this game were so very, very high... but the rewards... would be so sweet. His own children had been taken from him, he'd missed so much of Rose's life... The chance to change that pattern, to watch a child with the chance for such amazing potential grow beneath his roof, with the training of two hero families and his own extensive skills, and at the same time give Rose the gentler guidance of a strong woman--was worth the risk he would run. The stakes he was playing for had reached a level that touched his personal life in ways he had not had since Addie took his sons away. That thought cinched it in his mind; he would play the new game within a game, and keep the rules in his favor.


	4. Fresh Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new 'family' is mostly assembled

The feel of hard, warm muscle against his chest as he shifted in his sleep startled Roy into a half-conscious state--it wasn't something he was used to anymore. Dick had been gone so long, emotionally unavailable even longer.. whose bed was he in? He woke up a little more, trying not to yawn, eyes opening slowly... and the (perfect, beloved) scarred chest under his cheek made him wonder if he was dreaming. //Dick?// the surprised, disbelieving question was nearly voiced aloud, but he settled for just breathing deep--and the thick, sharp scent of sex and sweat and the unmistakable scent of Dick's skin, traces of his soap and shampoo made him shudder. //This is real...// he never dreamed scents, this had to be real... //God, you're home... you're all right, you're safe...// soft, glad, half-awake joy in the thought. He pressed closer, losing himself in the feel of Dick's body against his, the hardness in his posture relaxed into the gentle grace of sleep--and the move woke aches in his body, echoes of really excellent sex that made him start to smile. //We must have had a hell of--// 

That word froze him, locked his body into stillness and brought everything flooding back, from the first shake of HQ to the sound of gunshots to black darkness to Dick's body over him, taking him hard and sweet--//and unwilling, god damn you, Dick, how could you do that to me?// He hurt too much to be angry, ached deep in his soul for everything he'd lost with an intensity that robbed him of his ability to breathe... //Why?//

"Breathe, Roy," came from above him and startled him into doing just that--in preparation to yell--and Dick's fingers pressed into his lips gently. "Rose brought Lian in asleep, so she settled her in. I didn't want to wake you just to see her sleep. Welcome back." 

Roy shifted to stare at him, feeling the collar press gently into his throat with gut-twisting agony, letting his eyes say everything he wanted to about grief and rage and betrayal--and Dick sighed softly, right hand stroking over the close-cropped fuzz at the base of his skull. "Roy... I didn't have a choice."

He sucked in another breath past the choking tightness, eyes blazing as he started to talk, "The he--"

"Roy, stop. All right. I had one choice. Make you mine, make you admit to it without prompting... or put the bullet in your head myself. I... I couldn't. I couldn't even tell you why, or it wouldn't have counted as your choice, not if you said it just to live..." 

He'd always known when Dick was lying, no matter how hard he tried to hide it--and Dick wasn't lying now. Not that that fact excused a damned thing about the last night, about-- "So you just never gave me the chance to say no? What the hell, Dick?!" 

"You're right. I didn't." 

//How can you be this fucking calm?! You forced this--how can you lay there like it didn't mean anything?// "I cannot believe you!" 

"You'd better start, Roy," Dick's voice slipped cool, eyes slowly loosing their warmth. "I mean exactly what I say." 

"That's not what I--how could you? Kory, Dick?! I already knew you didn't give a tinkers damn about anyone else on the team, but Kory?! How in the hell could you let her die?!"

"I could only save one of you," that actually sounded a little like his Robbie, with the sorrow in his voice. "Nothing would have stopped Slade from taking her, not once it was a contracted hit, not after Addie--but I had enough to bargain with to buy your life and Lian's safety." 

"What, Dick, what did you even have to bargain with, with Slade?!" 

"The Tower access codes. What drugs Kory's vulnerable to. The tech to neutralize Shift."

Hearing Dick list off their secrets as his bargaining tools was so revolting he wanted to be sick, but it didn't explain anything, didn't even start to make sense of what he'd done.

"So, if you were going to turn traitor, why give a damn if I died alongside my team?" 

That one had hit hard, he realized as those eyes blazed blue flame. "How can you even ask me that?!" 

"How can I not? You left us, disappeared off the fucking planet for over a month without a word, and the first time I see you in all that time it's at the head of a team of killers with fucking Bane on it, taking down my team for Slade fucking Wilson? Why in the hell shouldn't I ask you why you give a damn? Even before you left, you hadn't--we weren't..." Despite how damned girlish it might seem, his voice broke and his hands fisted hard, nails biting down on his palms, struggling to get away from Dick--completely futilely. Dick's hard arms locked around him, along with a leg, forcing him into stillness... but when he finally spoke, several long moments of harsh breathing later, his voice was oddly normal.

"I... yeah. I--I was screwed up, Roy. Badly. Long before I left. I... know I fucked up, I was trying so hard to live up to something I can never be that I hurt you badly... I'm sorry. I know right now you don't trust me, and I don't blame you. Hell, I wouldn't either... but," and Dick tugged his chin around with a freed hand, easing his hold, making him meet those blue eyes again--blue eyes lit with something he hadn't seen in years--Dick's honest, open love. "I need you to believe me. I love you. You're mine, all I've got left, and I will protect you. Just please don't piss Slade off. Him I can't protect you from." 

Roy shook his head, fighting against that honesty, struggling to hold on to his anger, to the betrayal. "You... Dick, you knew I didn't want..." that was as close as he could come to saying it. 

"Roy, were you listening? The terms of my deal with Slade were that you were mine again, completely, within twelve hours of the hit on the Outsiders, or I had to execute you. I know you, my own. If I'd tried to explain, you'd have fought me until way past the deadline, and I couldn't take that risk. I just... couldn't. Not with you. What would you do, to save me?" 

That question stopped him cold. Would he have... if the alternative was... "I... I don't know, Dick. I... just don't." The thought was too... abhorrent to consider, how had Dick stood making the choice?

Dick sighed, his eyes slipping closed. "I... never wanted things to be like that, but by the time you woke up, I was running out of time."

He couldn't help reacting to that, any more than he'd been able to keep from reacting to Dick's touch, and curled a hand around his side, trying not to just break apart before he got the rest of the answers he needed so badly. Knowing why Dick had--it helped. It helped so much...

"I... Dick, I... I'm so lost right now that I don't even know where to start asking questions to make this even start to make sense... Make me understand. Please. Why?" 

"I... I killed someone, Roy. As Nightwing. Deliberately." The clipped tones of Dick's voice... it was hurting him to tell this, and he shifted closer yet, watching Dick's face, the closed eyes and the tightness in his mouth. "Months ago. Oh, I told myself I froze, told myself she pulled the trigger, I couldn't have stopped her--but I could have. I wanted him dead, and I let it happen, I allowed it--and it nearly killed me. I was going crazy with the guilt, with the shame and fear of knowing I was back in Gotham with blood on my hands--I got back out as fast as I could, came back to the Outsiders, tried to forget it... I'd failed, I was everything he has always hated. I had nothing to guide me, Roy... nothing."

//Oh, god. Oh, Dick, love... why didn't you tell me? I'd have helped...// He stayed silent, waiting, knowing there was more... and knowing how horribly being adrift would have devastated his lover, how the perception of failure would have nearly destroyed him. 

"I couldn't let anyone see, couldn't let anyone close enough to figure it out--that's why I was so... well. I know what you think of my behavior. I got out, and... I got deep into trouble. Waaay deep. Slade tracked me down, don't ask me how, I still don't know. He offered me a place, Roy. Offered me his backing if I'd teach Rose... He offered me--"

"--a path again. Slade's path, the killer's path... but a path. Oh, god Dick, I..." 

Dick nodded up at him, blue eyes clear and calm. "Yeah. He gave me back a road to walk, Roy, when I'd cut every tie I ever had to Bruce with two damned bullets. He'll never forgive me--and Nightwing doesn't fly without Batman's backing, hard as I tried to prove otherwise. Tim's too much Bruce's to let me back in his life... everything I had--but you--was gone, Roy..."

"Dick, if you owne--"

"I won't. I refuse to let Bruce's morals punish me for killing the bastard that torched my circus, blew up my home, killed my friends, tried twice to have Babs murdered, and knew who I was. I refuse to feel guilty for it anymore. It was the right call, Roy, a call I should have made a long time ago." Roy stared at that expression, at the defiantly determined expression as he turned those words over, trying to understand how his Robbie had gotten dragged down into the mud with him. 

"I... that's not a Titan's choice... but it's one I've made, Dick. One Ollie's made. Tell me you knew I'd understand..."

"I was too fucked up to know anything, Roy. Now that I can actually think straight, yeah. I know. We never talked about it, but.. I remember what Checkmate was like."

He nodded, just the once, letting some of the resentment and pain drain away in the wake of this. "Slade finally won... he's got you... I'm... amazed you managed to get him to let me live."

"He's got plans... Roy, something big is going down. Bigger than anything we've ever dealt with. The villians are all uniting... something about Light is the basis, Slade's not telling me what, yet. I think he's still putting pieces together, but... they're all cooperating. More than the usual. It's going to be bad, bad news, very soon."

"And you're going to stay on their side?!" Despite all appearances, there really was nothing left of his lover, not if he could stand that thought.

"Don't be ridiculous, Roy. Slade's in this for the profit, so am I--but the last thing either of us wants is a world where Luthor or Talia al'Ghul is in control. If nothing comes of it, nothing comes of it... but if they really unite, if things look too bad... well. Playing both sides is what he does best--and I'm not too bad at it, either. Especially now. I may not be a hero anymore... but nothing says I have to be a supervillain because of that. I'm still figuring out who I am now--but I want you with me to do it.

"Are you with me, my own?"

Roy thought about saying no--realized where that would leave his baby girl; realized where that would leave Dick, what killing him would do to Dick if he forced it... and knew he couldn't. Not when Dick had gone to such lengths to save his life, bring his daughter to safety... he couldn't abandon Dick, couldn't leave his baby and his lover in Slade's mercenary hands. "Yeah, Dick. I'm with you. I'm yours."

That smile was like a summer morning, cold still from the night but with the promise of all that blazing heat, radiant and dazzling and so him it almost hurt to see--then Dick was kissing him, deep and sure and sweet and so, so good... He lost himself in it, settling in to trying to save his heart's mate. 

*~*~*~

When he could think again, they were wrapped around each other, face to face with Dick's body pressing him down into the bed, sweat-soaked and hearts racing. Dick smiled at him--god, he'd missed that smile, the real one--and ran a hand down his cheek gently, "I missed you."

Roy just wrapped his arms tighter, low around Dick's waist. "I'm right here." //I've always been here why didn't you know that?// 

"Yeah. You are." Seeing Dick look that... content... was almost reason enough to stay, all on its own. Long moments of just breathing, then Dick sighed. "We should probably clean up and go check on Lian."

"Yeah, we should. You're sure she's o--"

"She's fine. Rose likes Lian, remember?"

"You're talking about the girl that put out her eye to be like Daddy, Dick, I'm not all that reassured..." 

"She's getting better," Dick said, quick and defensive. "She was crazy at that point, it's not her fault. She's better now."

"Okay... okay. Sorry. My bad."

Dick shrugged, fluid and feline, and kissed him gently. "I really am sorry about the cheek, I didn't mean to slap you that hard. My control's still a little off when I'm really upset."

Roy shook his head, "It's all right. We've done worse to each other, pretty often. So, shower?"

"Yeah... probably better take them separately, or we'll be a while..." 

Roy couldn’t help smiling at the old joke between them. "Yeah, we just might. Who's going first?" 

"You can," Dick replied and slowly slipped away from him, sitting up on the bed. "Just let me get your collar, first. Wet leather's painful."

"Yeah. Just a little," he sat up to let Dick unlock the collar, dipping his head to make that easier, and looked at it intently. "That's not mine." 

"I know... yours went up with my apartment. I had to go back and buy another one, I'm sorry." He looked a lot angrier than sorry, in Roy's personal opinion.

"Oh. Okay. I knew it didn't feel right." 

"Yeah," Dick stroked his shoulder, collar in his other hand. "Go on, get your shower. I'll dig out the clothing I picked up while you're in there."

"Oh, god, should I be afraid? I mean, I know your taste in clothes..." grinning as he teased him gently--and Dick swatted him with a pillow faster than he could see coming. 

"Brat. Just for that I ought to pick something perfectly awful." 

Roy shrugged, started to slide out of bed... then leaned over and kissed Dick deep before doing so. Once Dick let him up, he headed for the open bathroom door to wash up, wincing at the bruise across his cheek as he tracked down towels and figured out the shower controls. 

*~*~*~

Once they were both cleaned up and dressed--and Dick had chosen to wear that damned tempting black again, damn it--they headed out the door. Roy eyed the house as they moved, "Wow. Fancy..." 

"What, you thought he lived in a bunker?" he could hear Dick's eyes rolling. 

"I w--am not going to say anything about that," he cut himself off. Not in the man's house, not to a Dick that spoke about Slade in the tones he'd once reserved for Bruce. That apparently pleased Dick, as it got him kissed again. 

"Smart. C'mon, she's in here," as he pushed open the door. Girlish laughter bubbled out, making him smile in reply, and he slipped past Dick through the door. "Lian?" he called, scanning the room for her, and from a door across the room came a shriek of "Daddy, Daddy!" 

The door banged open and she ran across the room. He bent and caught her, pulling her tight against his chest, feeling tension flow out of him. Not that he hadn't believed Dick, he had... but holding his laughing baby made it obvious that Slade had kept his word. 

"Daddy, daddy Rose is back!" Lian babbled excitedly, wriggling in his arms, "and we played hide and seek and Rose didn't even find me and she made me peanut butter toast for breakfast and I asked her where you were but she said you were sleeping and that it'd been "a long night" and I ought to let you sleep... should I have let you sleep?"

He blushed hot at the idea of Lian trying to get in to wake him up while he and Dick were in the middle of things and nodded, "Yeah, etai yazi, I needed to sleep. Being a good girl for Rose?" 

"Of course I am, daddy!" she sounded so very indignant that he had to laugh. "That's my girl," he said, hugging her close. Rose stepped out of the bedroom, a strangely soft smile on her lips as she watched them with that single blue eye, loose T-shirt nearly falling off one shoulder, drawstring sweats low on her hips. //Oh, great...// 

"She's been an angel, Roy--good to see you again."

"Ah... yeah. Been a while, Rose. You grew up some," he commented. He couldn't say he was glad to see the now-sociopathic girl, but being nice wasn't going to hurt him. 

From the way she beamed, he knew he'd still stepped straight into really, really hot water. //Aw, shit,// he thought, even as she cooed, "Oh, you noticed, thank you!" as she spun in a slow pirouette, "Nobody ever notices that I'm not a little girl anymore!" With the glare she was throwing Dick, there was little doubt who 'nobody' was. 

//Damn, da--// "Play nice, Rose," Dick growled softly--and that caught Lian's attention. "Uncle Dick! You're here, too? Awesome!" 

"Hi, baby girl, I missed you." 

"I missed you, too--but I'm mad at you for making daddy unhappy," Roy couldn't see it, she was looking over his shoulder, but he could picture the fierce little expression clearly. 

"I know I did... I'm going to try and make it up to him, if he'll let me." Roy was... still floored by that answer, despite everything. He felt his daughter's head jerk in a sharp nod against his shoulder. "Good. You'd better. I don't wanna be mad at you anymore, and you know really good games, too."

Dick laughed softly, "Yeah, I think I still remember a few. Rose, have you got that analysis written yet?"

Roy wasn't sure which was more amusing, the idea of Dick playing teacher, or the mutinous, sulky expression on the face of the deadly girl in front of him. "No, I haven't, somebody's been too busy planning to talk to me about it, and I'm still kind of confused." 

"All right. Come on. We'll go work on that, and let Roy have some time with his daughter." 

If he hadn't been looking right at her, Roy might have missed the slightly wistful expression that flashed across Rose's face. "All right. I'll go get it. Should I meet you in the study?" 

"Yeah. More room to work on the table there, and I can grab the house copy if I really need to." 

She walked past him, just a little too close, hitting him with a faceful of subtle scent--jasmine? probably from her shampoo--and headed out the door. Despite the fact that he was watching her shoulders, he could see the shifts of muscle that meant she'd developed something of a sway to her hips. She turned in the doorway, "Bye Lian! I have to go do homework, but I'll be back later! Bye, Roy..."

//Oh, god. No.// He turned to look wide-eyed at Dick, who was shaking his head. "I'll talk to her, Roy. I have to go too, Lian, Rose needs my help."

"Okay. I wanna talk to daddy, anyway." 

Dick laughed and headed out the door, shaking his head as he followed Rose. 

Roy sighed and walked over to drop onto a couch with his daughter, "So, what's up, Lian?" 

Lian started chattering to him, and he much preferred to concentrate on his daughter than the fact that Deathstroke's very underage daughter was flirting with him. //And I thought my life was complicated before...//

*~*~*~

Dick caught up to Rose within a few steps out the door, and growled at her. "Mine, Rose."

"Aw, Diiick, I didn't mean anything by it..." She was trying the innocent act. Yeah, right. Like he hadn't mastered that years ago?

"You were either trying for me, or Roy, dressed like that, Rose. Either one is not acceptable. He's mine, and I am not sharing." 

"Not even with Daddy?" 

//Shit, when had the girl learned that one?// "Your father is a different story. You're too young, too impressionable, and my student. Not to mention that I don't want him hurt because your father takes offense. Stop. It." 

She turned that big, blue eye on him pleadingly, "But I never see anyone! I just..." 

"No. If you just have to practice flirtation, practice it on me. Leave Roy out of it. Slade knows you're safe with me." 

"Maybe I don't want to be safe..." That tone was pure, liquid sin, and he shook his head. "Ro--"

"Gotcha! It worked!" she laughed and took off running before he could wipe the flabbergasted look off his face and give chase, laughing right along with her.


	5. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade checks on what is his now.

Slade walked down the hall, headed directly for Harper's room in the still late-night quiet. The archer was asleep, but his boy was still awake. He silently eased the door open, backlit by the hallway lights... and was pleased when Dick slipped quietly out of the bed, never disturbing Harper in the slightest as he crossed the room on silent feet, completely nude and unashamed. //Gorgeous boy,// he thought, watching him. 

Standing close, Dick tilted his head to the side, asking a question in the tilt of his chin and the fall of his hair, and Slade just stroked down his side, pulling forward slightly when his hand reached Dick's hip. No need to disturb Harper, after all. He'd do that on his own, and later. Dick nodded, then glanced down his body and out the door, one brow going up curiously. He could hear the question plain as day, 'is anyone going to see me?' 

He shook his head in response, and Dick leaned up on his tiptoes, pressing close for a kiss, before squeezing past him out into the hall. He turned to follow, shutting the door quietly behind them and flicking the latch--and couldn't help but smile at the aggressively casual saunter towards his rooms from his chosen. The boy really was built like a god--and the seductive look back over his shoulder was just too much to resist. 

He went down the hall in long, silent strides and Dick turned just to meet him, hands wrapping up around his shoulders as that hot, eager mouth opened willingly, long strong body molding against his... He found his hand tangled through Dick's hair, holding his head tipped back at the perfect angle, other hand flattened hard at the small of his boy's back, feeling the eager shudders he never could hold back, and smiled as he pulled out of the kiss. "Shower, kid," he said, low and sure, and Dick nodded against the hold, dazzlingly bright smile flashing up at him as he waited to be let go, "Yeah..." 

He pulled his hand back out of the kid's hair, stroking it down his shoulder--and Dick twisted in his arms, pressing back against him a moment, body hot even through the fabric, all smooth muscle and hot skin before he took off down the hall. Watching him move--unashamed and eager in that lazily graceful, bounding motion that seemed like he never touched the ground, scars down his back and long, strong legs, smile still written in every line of his body as he hit the corner--was just amazing, made him want things he hadn't wanted in more years than he cared to think about--and Dick was entirely too far ahead of him. He moved, following, knowing Dick could feel the desire in his gaze, knowing what that would do to the boy--and he couldn't help the sudden, dark smile as the kid fumbled the doorknob before he could make it inside his suite. //My boy.// 

He locked Rose out and stripped out of the shirt in the front room, tossing it over a chair as the water flicked on, pulsing sound of the spray loud against the tile, unblocked at first, then the sound changed and he knew Dick was under the hot water--and any plans to wait evaporated with the steam. It was barely a moment before he was stripped to the skin and into the bathroom, and another before he joined Dick in the shower, pulling the glass shut behind him. 

"Oh, I didn't rea--" Dick turned again, dancer's pivot on one foot to look up at him, flushed in the shower heat, shaking water out of his hair and off his face--and Slade cut him off, kissing him deep, running his hands down the water-slicked skin of Dick's back, pulling him in against his body. Dick wrapped around him, pressing closer yet, legs curling around his thighs, hot and hard against his abs and he cupped his boy's ass to lift him, pulling him in tighter, shifting his weight to turn and pin him against the wall. Dick shuddered hard, legs tightening around him as he arched--trying to get away from the cold tiles, he realized. He just held him there and kissed him, hard and sure and deep until Dick settled back against the tile with another shiver, still wrapped tight around him. He broke the kiss to breathe, turning his head to avoid inhaling the pounding spray, and growled softly, "My boy." 

"Oh, yes," Dick moaned, rocking against him, already so hard it almost hurt and already out of control, letting Slade take care of pinning him to the wall, letting go of everything but how it felt to be held like that, powerless and vulnerable and god, yes, just like this... He moaned softly, "Oh, god, Slade..." against his shoulder, body rocking into the hands cupping his ass and against Slade's body in the tiny space he had to move. He stroked his hands down (strangely unscarred) shoulders, feeling the spray beat against one as he started licking at his lover's throat, pressed as close as he could get, eager and pleading and hungry, //Slade, c'mon, please...// 

Slade didn't disappoint, keeping him balanced with one hand--//makes it seem easy//--as the other ran over his body, hard-callused fingers dragging gasps and moans from him at even the simplest of lightening-edged caresses, making him shake--so very, very different than what he had with Roy, and he needed both so badly... 

He licked out the line of a shoulder, tasting mostly the water, but sweat and faint cordite and the unique taste of Slade's skin under it all, legs locked around Slade's as his hands went wandering, trying to be everywhere he could reach that his mouth wasn't, losing himself in the pressure and heat and need this man so easily built in him... He pressed kisses and licks into Slade's chest, hands caressing over his back, cheek rubbing against the sparse dusting of pale, pale hair--it was no surprise when Slade's hand tapped at his calf, telling him to let go. He whimpered, not wanting to lose the so-perfect contact, the feel of this… 

"Boy..." 

He let go and dropped the ball of his foot at the warning, shuddering at the way heat blazed through his veins at his lover's voice gone dark with unspoken threats, held off-balance above the floor by a one hand and the grip of his other leg--and didn't cling to his shoulders. Slade wouldn't drop him. He waited the long, long moment it took for Slade to let him slip down enough to contact the floor, then uncurled his other leg from Slade's upper thigh and went back to kissing his way down his body. He gasped as one hand tangled in his hair and pushed him lower, folding down to his knees, trapped between Slade's body and the wall, mouth at ribs, then abs, then he rubbed his cheek against the inner curve of Slade's thigh, looking up his body to find that single blue eye blazing hot with hunger. Slade groaned softly, a low, soft noise that sent a shudder through him again--Slade made him shake so damned easily--and the hand in his hair pulled his mouth in and up and he licked at the thick column of Slade's cock, glad the worst of the spray was blocked by Slade's body. He lapped at him, broad, flat strokes of his tongue from base up towards his tip--he'd long since learned what Slade liked, what he wanted, and it was so, so easy to give.... 

A subtle tension in Slade's wrist against his scalp warned him when he was about to cross the line from pleasing to teasing too long, and he lifted just enough to wrap his lips around his tip and suck him down, long and easy and simple despite the always-there flicker of 'I can't breathe!' 

"God, kid, so good," the low, harsh whisper was hard to catch over the noise of the spray and the pulse pounding in his ears and throat, but he caught it and purred with pleasure, knowing what that would do to Slade and loving it. He pulled back and dropped his head again, sucking him down, and again, and Slade swore at him softly, "Too fucking good at that, but you've got such a sweet mouth, kid..." 

He couldn't smile with his lips so he did it with his body, shift of shoulders and arms and back that said it loudly enough for Slade to read as he pulled back again, and heard him laugh, just a little--more a chuckle than a laugh, really. "Pretty boy," Slade told him affectionately, voice rough, and the way Slade's hand flattened at the back of his head told him he was about to--

\--move, even before the shift in his posture that translated into a roll of his hips, smooth and elegant and deep enough to press his lips hard against skin and bone before Slade moved again, fucking his mouth---and his world dissolved into the hand in his hair and what he was doing, into breathing steam-laden air when he could possibly gasp a breath and keeping up with Slade's movements, matching thrusts with suction or a slide of his tongue, hands locked around forearms behind his back to keep from touching himself, hungry and desperate and god, so hard...

He cried out in stunned disbelief as Slade pulled completely away, keeping him from following by the hand in his hair, wondering what he'd done wrong--until Slade's hand slid under his arm and hauled him to his feet in one long, fast rush. His other hand slid out of his hair to his shoulder, pulling, //oh, oh yes// and he went with that, turning, letting go of his arms to brace against the tile, forehead against a wrist, palms picking up the cold of the tile--//too hot for it to still be cold,// he protested dazedly--spray beating down on him again as he splayed his legs open, waiting. 

"So willing," Slade said into his ear, low and soft, and he tried to press back against the body he could sense but not feel, earning a quick slap that echoed in the tiny space, but barely stung. "No. Be good, or I'll make you wait." 

He whimpered, shaking his head, the rest of his body stilling at the threat... Slade had been known to do just that, and it always made him completely insane. 

"Good boy," against his ear again. Soft plastic popping noise and Slade's fingers were against his ass, pressing gently, but firmly up into him, two at once and oh, god... He mewled and pressed back, hips bucking hungrily at that slick slide--and Slade laughed at him. "So damned pretty, spread out and begging me to take you, so easy... That's my boy. Move, Dick, show me how you want it..." 

The fingers inside him flexed and he bucked back again, quick and deep and not enough and he did it again, and again, asking for more and harder and faster with every shift of his body. Slade's fingers in him never changed until they were sliding out of him, making him whimper, then Slade's weight pushed him harder against the wall, blocking the spray, thighs spreading his legs wider as he sank deep into him, one long, sure thrust that made him shake and gasp and bite at his own wrist. Slade's hands wrapped hard around his hips, pulling him back and holding him still as his lover (master) moved, chest against his shoulders as he sank deep into him over and over again... All he could do was writhe with it, against him and try to keep breathing while Slade owned his body, possessed him in the way he'd always wanted, hands scrabbling over the tiles as he tried to cope--and Slade's hands left his hips, stilling inside of him. 

"Dick..." the hint of disappointment was worse than the anger in the tone and he shuddered, curling in on himself as he tried to figure out what he'd done. 

"Y-yes, Sir?" 

"Wrists. Up against the wall, crossed over your head. Now." 

Oh. Oh, god, he'd moved... He shifted to obey, feeling the change in his shoulders against Slade's chest as he went where he was told, dropping his head in the extra space that position provided. 

"Good..." Slade's hand stroked over his cock and he knew better than to even shift, holding still until that hand slid up his abs, out his ribs and up his arm, grip locking around his wrist to press it to the wall, then his other wrist was in Slade's other hand, stretched up over his head in a grip that could break them if he chose--and Slade moved again, slow and gentle and he nearly sobbed, moving back against him, so perfectly trapped by all that solid muscle and the sheer force of Slade's will. 

"Ssh, easy, I've got you, kid..." Slade said over his shoulder, moving him, slowly picking up their earlier pace, driving him out of his mind with each hard thrust, body bucking until he was shocked to hear himself begging for release...

"Whose are you, Dick?"

"Yours, god, Slade I'm yours please!" 

"Now, Dick," that voice ordered and he lost himself in the surge of blazing white heat, brainless and mindless as he fell into that solid grasp. 

He moaned softly, shaking his head as he started to come around, felt Slade still sheathed inside him and fully hard and knew they weren't through yet--and that sent a fresh surge of need and desire through his already-exhausted body. "Slade?" voice sex-drugged and stupid, even to his own ears, but he wasn't sure what his lover wanted at this point. 

"Wanted you back with me, kid," was the answer as Slade started to move again, still holding his wrists, and Dick trembled, body still lax and lazy from his climax, "wanted you to feel this. Move with me," he didn't know how, but he was. "Good boy... that's my boy..."

"Yes, Slade, god, yours, more please, you feel so good, I just... don't stop, don't stop..." This was so good, locked in the not-thinking afterglow haze with someone he could trust fully in control, guarding his back, completely safe and absolutely free... He moaned softly in pleasure, rocking with Slade as his body started to get interested again--

"I won't, Dick. Trust me, I won't, that's it... that's it. Move with me, pretty boy, that's right, I've got you..." Slade kept talking in that low, rough sex-growl that shook him all the way to his soul, and his voice joined it, begging and promising as Slade brought him to that fever-pitch again, voice only stopping when his mouth was sucking at one shoulder or the other, leaving bruises in the wake of his teeth that just made Dick shudder in need, "Slade, Slade please..."

"With me," that voice ordered and he gasped his agreement, shaking as Slade's thrusts went erratic, still deep and sure but out of that perfect rhythm until teeth and lips sank hard around his shoulder and his hands clenched tighter--and without a single touch Dick lost it again, shaking like a leaf and supported only by Slade's body.

It was long, long moments before Slade shifted away, running his hands down his arms to turn and pull him back into the spray, holding him against his chest until he felt like he could stand on his own. He finally managed that by bracing an arm against the wall... and Slade started washing him with gentle hands. "Worn out, kid?"

"Ah... yeah..." he just leaned there, eyes closed, listening to the sound of Slade washing up, then the water shut off and the glass clicked open. Shadows across his eyelids and whispers of sound said Slade was moving, and a towel wrapped around his shoulders gently, rubbed over him (one of the big bath sheets by the way it fell) and Slade scooped him up in it--//like a child lover//--and he just pressed close, tucking his legs in to help Slade get him out of the shower, and tucked his head up against Slade's neck as the mercenary carried him to the obscenely large bed.

"You are passing out, kid," Slade observed, voice entirely too amused and awake as he laid him down, and Dick just sighed at him, then crawled out of the towel and under the covers. 

"Y're good like that. Comin' t' bed?" 

The bed shifted beside him, and Slade's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.

"Yes, 'parently..." he murmured softly and curled up against him, going to sleep within heartbeats.


	6. Confrontations... and Reluctant Understandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade 'discusses' things with Roy.

Slade smiled slightly to himself as he watched the taillight of Dick's bike pull out of the drive and take off towards the south. Two hours in that direction, a policeman with a taste for children and a badge to protect himself was about to learn that the shield was not enough protection. Not when you angered a wealthy if absent mother. He'd accepted the contract over a week ago, intending it to be Dick's first kill. Circumstances had turned it into the second, but the first solo. Now, with him absent and the girls in bed, was the perfect time to have a... discussion with his boy's pet. 

He drew in a deep, satisfied breath of air as he turned to go back inside. He took the time to set the codes, securing the estate for the night. He was in no hurry to go find the boy just yet; after all, the archer was likely smart enough to know it was coming, and anticipation would just make it sweeter for Slade. He had a little more work to look over before he indulged his interest in interviewing the former marksman.

Roy prowled the room nervously, feeling as though there was a target painted between his shoulder blades. Dick was gone to do god-knew-what, and with Lian tucked in and Rose either asleep or studying, there was nothing to distract him from the fact that he was alone in Deathstroke's home. The man's word was his bond and he'd promised Dick safety for the two of them--but there was no way he didn't want something in return, something more than what left the quickly-fading bruises on Dick's neck and hips and arms. Knowing he shared Dick with the assassin was gut-twistingly painful--then again, with as many years as he'd shared Dick with Babs, Kory, and whoever else fell under Dick's irresistible charm, he could almost convince himself this wasn't that bad. At least this time, they all knew exactly what they were getting into. 

Almost a full hour passed, and there was still no sound from the rest of the house. Roy could almost relax, almost convince himself that he was nothing more than a reward to Dick, a thing of no consequence in Slade Wilson's world. 

Then the doorknob turned.

Sounds echo loudly in silence, and that one sounded more like a gunshot than the click of a latch. Roy whipped around from the window, fighting to get his face composed before it could open fully. The collar locked around his neck nearly burned against his skin as he waited, but his head went back and his shoulders straightened, eyes on the door. He wasn't beaten yet.

The man that entered the room was disarmingly... civilian. Dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a lightweight shirt that did nothing to hide the powerful chest beneath it, Slade looked for all the world like a man just in from a normal day of work. Roy had seen him so many times over the years, in various guises, but somehow this one threatened him the most. 

"Harper." The smug ease that the name flowed out of his lips with was one more calculated piece of menace.

"Wondered when you'd finally show up," Roy answered, wondering why he was so sure this would be easier if it was Deathstroke in front of him, not Slade. Too many lines to walk for him to be blatantly defiant, but if Slade wanted to make small talk, sure, he could do that.

"Settling in?" His eye lingered a long time on the collar, making it feel cold and constrictive, a mark of what this man had done to Dick, rather than a token of the bond between Dick and him.

"About as well as could be expected, I suppose. Nice place... for something bought with blood money..." The hell Slade was going to make him ashamed. His chin shifted up, just a little more, jaw setting harder. //Fuck you, you son of a bitch. If this is what I have to be to stay with my lover, I'll do it, but you don't hold my leash. (He owns Di)--Shut up!//

That eye narrowed dangerously, before the big man walked fully into the room, hands behind his back as he looked all around. 

"Blood money. One currency that runs heavily here. Then there are other ways things... lives... have been bought from me," he said coolly. "More personal ways." 

The redhead tilted his head at him, surprised that had actually gotten a reaction. Slade wasn't normally sensitive about his profession. "Did you somehow think that wasn't blazingly clear to me? I know what Dick did to protect me, and my baby, and have a pretty good guess at both forms of payment he probably used. That's between me and him."

A chuckle was his first answer to that claim. "Harper, there's nothing in this house that's just between you and anyone." He casually strode to the armchair, his body a coiled flow of energy that was contained, grounded, in ways that Dick's never would be. When he sat, he gave the impression of a feudal lord, surveying his domain. "You were bought, and I allowed it because it suited my purposes."

"Yeah... I'm actually really damned confused by that. Lian I can understand, given, well, that. It'll burn Chesh but good to have her daughter in your hands, and you've got to love it. But me? That I don't get. You already own him, it was written all over his body every time he looked at you, every time he says your damned name... why give him me? You didn't need to. The Renegade I saw last--no, two nights ago--wouldn't give a damn. So why let me live?"

Roy watched the man take the time to consider the question, reaching up to idly groom that small beard. "He laid out compelling qualifications for your services in this household," Slade answered with a slight smirk. "As it will not interfere with his services to me, I agreed." The stress there indicated that there was a point at which Slade could dispense with Roy's presence, one that could be reached by trying to manipulate Dick from either killing or the bedroom.

"He did?" startled, stupid question. "Never mind. You don't bother to say anything you don't mean." //Dick, what did you say?// He shook his head--shook off the surprise, and crossed his arms, watching the damned arrogant man sit there so calmly. "You know, Ollie has that same 'tick'..." Hell with it. Might as well poke the bear to see if it's asleep.

"Does he now?" The icy calm was so much a part of Deathstroke that Roy could almost see the colors of the assassin rather than those pale, civilian clothes. "Tell me where you see yourself in my world." This was the point he let Roy make his intentions clear as a bell, or hang himself on the rope being extended.

"If it wasn't for Dick? Abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. With him here, like this? When you've got my daughter? I'll do whatever I have to. I'm not going to spend another month scared witless for him, not knowing if he's alive or dead. I won't." 

"You know I will care well for your daughter, so her safety is not a factor here," Slade said, somewhat harshly. "And your loyalty to my boy is, for the time being, accepted." He pinned Roy with a hard gaze. "Where do you fit in this house? Strictly his bed? A house father to a child with the potential to be the next generation's foremost marksman?"

"...Oh, you son of a bitch." Low, harsh whisper. "You--" and he cut it off hard. Swearing at his lover's Dom was not the brightest idea he'd ever had. "It's not just to fuck with Chesh, and not to hold a leash on me. It's what you see in Lian. You want to make me daughter a killer, just like yours. Fuck. Damnit, Dick!" Completely off the topic, but onto the Far more important one. 

Slade did not deny the accusation fully. "Her welfare is of concern to my boy, as well," he said instead. "You, however, have not answered my question." There it was again, the cool voice that had haunted Titans from around the world for years.

"That's because I don't have a clue how to! Jesus, Slade, it's not like this is something I was planning on! What time I haven't spent fighting--or making up with--Dick has been spent either with my very confused five-year-old, dodging your daughter, or asleep!"

Slade rose from the chair, stalking to a point not four inches from Roy to glare down at him. "Think, then, long and hard. Now."

Roy looked up at eye and eyepatch, and fought not to take a step back. "Why even give me the choice?"

Slade's hand twitched at his side, and it was enough to actually draw Roy's attention. The man standing there, looming with calculated presence had stopped himself from laying hands on Roy. 

"Tell me, Harper. Do you prefer to be a pawn in all this, or will you step up and take advantage of what you could be given?" 

"You ought to know how much I hate getting played, Wilson, and being a pawn's even worse. I trust your word, but I don't trust you, and that you're nervous enough to ask me if I'm going to 'step up'... You're after something big. The Outsiders were the first step, not the last. How many of my family are you going to kill, and why in hell do you think I'd ever be willing to help you?" He took a few breaths, calming down just a little. "But I hate being useless even more than I hate getting played. Put me at Dick's back, let me cover him. That much I can say I'll do, right now. No tries to get away, no Flashed messages to my kin, my word on it. Just put me at his back. I'm not letting you get him killed, too."

Slade slowly smiled, a look that was more threatening than any other expression. This was exactly what he wanted to find, that the boy was not a useless mouth to feed, that he would choose to adapt. He stepped back just enough to cross his arms over his chest. "You'll have his back, when I say you must go with him. Until then, you learn." He looked very satisfied with himself right now, though he did not address the questioning about his plans. "You may also assist in training Rose. She has a preference for naked steel, but your eye is good enough to complete her marksmanship training."

Roy managed to keep from wincing--just barely. //Why me?// Sure, Rose hadn't pulled anything like yesterday morning again, but there was still this look in her eyes sometimes... //Wait, did he just... Yeah, he did.// He tried to ignore the warmth through his chest at the compliment, pushing it away. "All right. I can do that. What've you got her working on, pistols still or long guns?"

"Pistols so far, but she needs both. See to teaching her all of them, Harper." Slade turned to leave the room, then paused. "Any requests for yourself or your daughter?" He knew the strength of giving rewards, knew how to use the carrot as well as he knew the use of the stick.

"Lian seems pretty happy, so far, so... not that I can think of. Me... I need something to do, I never have this much down-time... Please, god, don't suggest the library. That's Dick's gig, but if you've got a guitar around..." 

Slade actually turned fully back around, appraising Roy with a gaze that Roy did not know the word for. Was it kind, reminiscent, or sad? Somewhere in the mix of it all, Roy was sure he saw a glimpse of a man, not a monster in there. 

"I have one," he admitted. "I'll bring it to you." He thought of the last person to touch that guitar, the one he had bought it for, and saw a sliver of what having a family in his life could be like, with reminders of the past like this one. 

It took Roy a long moment before everything connected, and then the redhead felt like a complete ass. "I... thanks, Slade. I... sorry. I should have remembered." //No you do not need to apologize any more than that. It's not like you did it on purpose.// "That wasn't... deliberate."

"I didn't think so. That's why you are still breathing." He put just a hint of menace in his voice, but there was a note of amusement there too. "He would probably..." The man's jaw clenched, as more pleasant memories were crowded out by the recent year's madness, incited by the person in question. With no more said, he walked out of the room, considering the results of the talk.

To the silence of the room, Roy sighed. "Yeah, Slade. He probably would." He dropped onto the bed, shoving a hand up into the fuzz over his skull. //Not nearly as satisfying as it used to be,// he thought, sighing. "Waaay to go, Harper. Nice work. You're lucky he didn't decide to deck you, for starters." If he was being honest with himself, he was lucky Slade hadn't done a lot more than that. Nobody but an idiot reminded that man about Joey. 

Barely ten minutes later, the door opened and the big man wordlessly laid a guitar case on the bed for him. He left without sharing any more sentiments or testing, but Roy got the impression it was still in the forefront of the man's thoughts. The single eye rested on him a long moment before the door closed once more, and the silence of the house pressed in again.

Roy'd looked up, seen the expression on Slade's face, and done nothing but nod his thanks. He really did know when to be quiet. Long, long minutes after Slade had left again, he pulled the guitar case into his lap and flicked it open, testing the strings, tuning it carefully. //Miss you, Joey... Not Jericho so much, but Joey...// 

He shifted back against the headboard, pulled his fingers across the strings, and the slow starting strains of 'Thunder Road' poured off the strings, keeping him company. //Be safe, Dick. Please.//

Not too far away, a man considered the music, nodded once in sharp fashion to himself, and walked on. The past was over; only the future could exist now.


	7. A Bird in the Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade acquires the woman he has chosen to be the feminine presence in his household

Slade waited, patient as a hawk watching for the mouse to stick her head up. He had tracked the women back to this point, and now had a good view of them having a roof top conference with Batman. He could not hear, or even read lips at this distance, but there was a lot of anger on that rooftop. Then, just as he was sure the Huntress and Batman were going to come to blows (Canary's lack of concern to the contrary), all tension melted away. A few more exchanges between them all, and then Canary accosted Batman quite firmly. Slade could see her arm was up in a sling, and remembered the firm snap of the bones vividly, admiring her tenacity at still being up and moving, using her free arm to…

"Interesting," he murmured, watching with detachment as the woman he had always seen as a member of Green Arrow's harem passionately kissed the man who was the closest thing Slade had to an equal in the League. It gave his plans a whole new avenue, to know that she was that much closer to the Bats than the Arrows now.

`~`~`~`~`

Right on cue, Dinah emerged from her building to go walking. She had fought a hard battle and yet she still went for one last walk around the area she lived in, a holdover habit from her beginnings as a street crime fighter, or maybe Green Arrow's influence. The sun would be up soon, marking the time of day when Gotham trained heroes crawled into dark holes for rest, even when they were living in Metropolis. 

Slade readied the stinger in his hand, a vicious little dart he could throw from short range that had a near instant effect, even on meta biology. He had seen enough of Black Canary to know that she had a high resistance to drugs and pain. He moved toward her as she prowled the alleyways, her hooded cloak hiding the broken arm. With the right distraction and timing, he would be able to reach her side and keep her from injuring it further. No sense, he thought, in completely ruining the prize, after all. 

The small woman had moved into a fully secluded passageway between buildings, and he knew the time would never be more perfect. With the flawless aim guided by his sense of how she would move next, he threw the stinger into her neck, following its flight path.

"Wha…" The woman managed, a hand reaching up for the bird she wore at her throat. 

"Not this time, Broken Wing." He was under her with supporting hands, lowering her to the ground as she lost consciousness. As he fieldstripped her of all potential devices, he had to almost smile at being able to repay the favor from their shared adventure out of time on that little mystery island. "We don't want your dispatcher finding you anytime soon."

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah's first impression was of a vicious headache. Her second was the sound of Lian's voice, laughing softly as she played…but it did not sound quite right. 

"Lian? Dart?" She went to sit up, and that was when she realized that she was neither in a home she recognized, nor dressed in her costume. In fact, the sound of Lian's sweet laughter was coming from a video monitor, as the child played with…

The Ravager.

"Awake at last, Dinah Lance?" The satisfied voice was right at her elbow, and she spun, to see the most deadly assassin she knew of, save one, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was dressed in casual attire, looking nothing like the man half the world feared. Instead, he seemed sublimely unaffected by her instant glare and the setting. A quick estimate of the clothing she was in placed it as a pair of his pants with a drawstring, and a tee shirt equally large enough to belong to him. She had to squelch a shudder at that implication, but Lian's welfare came first.

"What in the name of God are you doing with my goddaughter?!" she snapped, jerking her broken arm too fast in an effort to point at him. She did not hiss or groan, he noted, only seeing the pain when her eyes creased momentarily. 

"Providing her with security and protection at present, Dinah." Slade reached over and lifted a sling from the night table, offering it to her. Her eyes narrowed at him, so he stood and proceeded to put it on her, ignoring her quiet seething.

"You kidnapped an innocent child," she said. "I thought that was beneath you, Wilson," she told him. She knew better than to push a physical fight with him; he was holding all the cards and had just come very close to defeating her entire team the night (before, two nights, how long?) they had crossed paths. Slade moved back from securing the sling, leaving it to her to actually put her arm in it, and picked up a remote. He turned on a second monitor, and Dinah's blood froze.

On the monitor, she saw her son/brother/friend Roy, wearing just a pair of pants and a collar (oh god, a collar?!) kneeling on a bed, while a red and black clad individual (bird on the back…so familiar…no!) stroked his hair.

"I merely reunited her under my roof with her father," Slade said in his dry, calm fashion. The small blonde launched herself from the bed at him, a futile effort he caught easily. It marked a very important fact for him; the child was a useful hold, but Dick's pet held even more weight.

"What the hell have you done to him?!" She struggled, but was no match for his size or skill as he contained her. A small part of her mind recognized the fact he did not go for the injured arm to exploit her weakness; in fact, he seemed to be purposefully avoiding hurting her.

"He is here to be with his lover, again accepting the security only I can give in these uncertain times," Slade told her. Dinah stared up at him with a need for it not to be true. 

"What did you do to Nightwing? Brainwash him?" Dinah demanded from him, eyes flashing as he finally got her by her shoulders, turned her around, and held her there. His one eye narrowed as he spoke concisely.

"Dick came to me, chose my path, and is doing quite well now." The firm intonations on the name told her more than she ever wanted to know about her partner's former boyfriend and this…sociopath. Her brain whirled through half a dozen scenarios, as she tried hard to see what it was she was missing. 

"Why?" The one word summed up more questions than she could have bombarded him with, knowing his utter lack of patience for explaining himself.

"Their reasons. I'll tell you why I picked you," he said. "The girls need a woman around to teach them." His mouth quirked at her defensive posture shifting even more intensely to a fight or flight one. "Don't worry your pretty little head on those thoughts. I have what I want." His smug satisfaction made her want to be sick to her stomach. "You care for the girl Lian. In exchange for you being allowed to teach her, to raise her still, you will also share your gifts with my daughter, Rose."

"And if I refuse?" she asked him, still pondering if she could hurt him fast enough to get free of the room. His smile was enough to make her shiver; he had not been that predatory toward her since….Gorilla City. She remembered Lady Vic's full fear of the man, and swore not to let him push her into that kind of corner.

"I could say it's your life." He set her down on the bed, firmly, as he turned off the two monitors, pocketing the remote. "But I believe I'll just leave it this way. Lian has an amazing amount of potential. Do you really want me to give her over to someone like, say, Talia al Ghul?" 

"You bastard," she growled, her fist clenching at her side. He moved toward the door, pausing as he touched the knob.

"You'll refrain from such language around the children, Dinah." With that, he left her to stew on the predicament she was in.

`~`~`~`~`

The door opening distracted Dinah from her fervent pacing in the corner. The room had no windows, but was nicely furnished and had space to let the woman move around in. There was also a small washroom, with all the things a woman might need provided in it. A search of the drawers had turned up more generic clothing for a woman about her size, which made the clothes she woke in more of a blatant statement that he possessed her freedom now. She had already spotted the obvious camera, and suspected where the hidden one was. She looked prepared to argue, ready to give Slade ten pieces of her mind.

She was not prepared for him to be bringing her food, knowing most of the day had gone by without such a luxury from the roiling in her stomach. He took in the fact she had not changed, considered it was her rebellion against exposing her body to his cameras. 

"I was busy earlier, and couldn't bring you lunch." That civil tone, like they were just discussing a normal day, and she was his willing guest almost drew an angry growl from her. "I do think you have a fondness for Thai cuisine?" He set the food on her night table, showing her a very well supplied plate that smelled heavenly.

"How do…never mind." She came over and sniffed suspiciously at the meal.

"Dinah, if I were to resort to drugs, you would've awakened under their influence," he chided. She sat down on the edge of the chair he had used earlier, so he nonchalantly leaned on the bureau. 

"Your deal? What does it entail, exactly?" Dinah asked, resolutely. All day she had been plagued with visions of Lian taken from her father and given over to the Society's chief mistress of evil.

"Simply put, you will remain in my home, at all times, unless I say otherwise. You will tutor Rose in combat and other skills. Lian would be yours to raise as any child, with the stipulation that she begin combat training as soon as I deem her developed enough." He watched the way she was eating slowly, obviously listening to him even as she hated it.

"Why in the hell would I want to help you break Rose further into your own pattern? Wilson, you have to be out of your mind! This whole set-up is insane!" The instant the words escaped her in a burst of anger, she knew she had made a mistake. She was dangling from his hand against her throat, against the wall, her chair turned over before she even processed that he had moved.

"I'll tell you what is insane, Dinah Lance; it is your insistence that you have any right to judge me or my actions!" She wrapped her good hand partway around his wrist, bringing her legs up around his abdomen to support herself. It made him smile, reminding him again why he had picked this particular woman. "Sit down, and finish your meal. Think about the fact I hold your life in my hands, as well as the future of your son and goddaughter." He released her to the floor, only moving so far as the bed, sitting on its edge as if it were a chair. He watched her rubbing her throat as she sat down, recovering her food. 

She thought hard about his words to her, feeling as if he had stripped her bare. Recent events had bared her most hidden shame to the world, it seemed. The fact that he knew…it galled her, and made her feel tarnished in a way that only Batman had been able to until now. She looked at him, noting his attention was on how well she was eating, and remembered her infrequent encounters with him. From the time she had masqueraded as Oracle, he had treated her with professional courtesy, being one of the few villains who lived by a code that approached anything resembling honor. If he gave her his word, he would honor it.

"With what is happening out there, what you are a part of, how can I take what you offer?" she asked slowly. He recognized the question for what it was, a test of him as the man she had fought against and alongside of. 

"I'm still my own man. But what your precious League did…and what some of my associates can do…. that is the real threat to the way we all live." He reached out, catching her chin in his thumb and forefinger, drawing her face around to look at him. "You stand a good chance to survive the coming storm here; out there, you have a price on your head that looked quite attractive to me and others."

"This is not about me living; I know I'm dead if I tell you 'no'." The look on her face as she pulled away from his hand told him he'd have his hands full making it happen. "This is about Lian, and the fact I will not tolerate that child growing up to be you!" Before he could say a word, she plunged on. "No, I may not have the right to judge you, but I do know what I want for my godchild! You brought me in; you're going to have to live with my sense of right and wrong and what I pass on to her," she challenged.

"I won't allow you to turn her on me or mine," he growled.

"My word, not to personally attack you or yours in exchange for your word that you keep me up to date on the things happening," she said. The venom in how she said 'yours' made Slade wonder if he were missing a piece of history between his boy and this spitfire.

"Even knowing I will not allow you to interfere in my plans? Do you really want to know when we execute the contracts against someone like your former lover, Green Arrow? Or your current interest, Batman?" He saw the barest evidence of her pain at both those thoughts in her eyes.

"Your word," she repeated, knowing it would be far better to know for certain. He had, of course, followed her thought. Slade knew the uncertainty factor could work for or against him, but to win her acceptance of the facts so soon, with a condition to not work actively against his image to the children was tempting.

"You have my word, Dinah." He stood, gathering up her empty plate. "We'll see about letting Lian visit you tomorrow. Good night."

She watched him go, sagging in the chair once he had closed the door once more. Despite the cameras, she put her head in her hands.

"Momma, what have I done," she whispered to the silence of the room.

`~`~`~`~`

Slade watched the view screen to his guest's room intently, not fully trusting her yet. While she had accepted his word, she had been part of the League that had mind-raped Light, and who knew how many other people. She was unlikely to try and escape, but still…desperate times and measures came into play. It was very late, but Dinah still had not laid down, sitting in the chair with her body in a defeated posture.

The soft sound of someone entering caused him to analyze the sounds and scents, and then smile. "Rose, I have a task for you in the morning." He felt her hands come around his shoulders, as she leaned over the chair behind him.

"Yes, Daddy?" Her eagerness to please him was still refreshing; so far his acquisition of his boy had not pushed her away or made her bitter. He was counting on Dinah to prevent that; Rose would win her over, and have a teacher completely her own. 

"You have a new teacher. She belongs to you and Lian, so take good care of her." He indicated the monitor, just as Dinah raised her head, looking at the obvious camera with disgust. "I believe you've met her at least once?"

"Dinah Lance, also known as the Black Canary," Rose said. "I met her when I used to take care of Lian. She often came to pick Lian up for weekends." 

"You'll let her out of her room in the morning, keep an eye on her. Show her the kitchen, the gym, and keep her inside. She can have access to Lian and yourself. I'll allow her one day to merely get accustomed to our home. After that, I will have a schedule for her to follow with you."

Rose watched as the woman walked to the bathroom, shutting that door. "Does it suit your needs to tell me why?" she asked, leaning down to put her face near his.

"Because she can teach some lessons no man can, and Lian is young enough to need a mother," he answered, wanting her to understand why he had added one more disruption.

"I see." She pressed her cheek to his before straightening. "I'll keep an eye on her. I assume if she becomes a problem, she is to be contained again?"

"Yes." He turned to regard her critically. "Dinah is a very strong woman, Rose. Don't dismiss what she has to offer you even if she is soft in her views of the world."

"She'd have to be, Daddy, for you to even think she might suit me as a teacher," she said with complete confidence in his love of her.

"Good girl." He turned back to the monitors to think a little more on his ever changing plans, hearing her close the door behind her.


	8. Hints and Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero reactions to Dinah and Lian's abductions

_Set just after A Bird in the Hand_

Helena had a very grim set to her mouth as she intruded in the bedroom. Barbara was not accustomed to being physically awakened by her team, more accustomed to electronic intrusions.

"Dinah's missing." 

Two words, and it was all Barbara could do to breathe. Actually moving from that to actively setting mission mode in her mind took more effort than the night Bruce Wayne had been arrested for Vesper's murder.

"Perimeter cameras," she called as she transferred to her chair. In the control room, her complex system geared up to suit her needs. Right now, all her needs hinged on finding her partner and best friend.

`~`~`~`~`

Batman looked up as the screen for Oracle lit, and revealed a ravaged looking redhead to him. His hand gripped a small green domino tightly, the only outward sign to his turmoil and reaction at seeing her aplomb so shaken.

"Dinah's gone," Oracle blurted out. "We found her gear two alleys over, her costume ten blocks away in another direction. She left on patrol, did not return."

"When?" He started pulling up League protocols by force of habit, changing all of Canary's codes to 'compromised' before really remembering he was not officially a League member anymore. It did not matter; the important thing was safeguarding what remained of the League.

"Near dawn…she can't sleep most days until she does a neighborhood pass." Oracle was truly shaken. "My cameras couldn't see there, and we discovered a blind approach between them."

"You think she was taken." Batman gripped the domino just a bit tighter, remembering the night before, and the fierce kiss the exuberant fighter had given him.

"Yes. I've sent Lady B after Creote and Savant, just to be safe. And H is trying to figure out where Shiva is currently." Oracle pinched the bridge of her nose. "B, this is the third one close to me." She looked hopeful. "Unless you have heard from the FBW…"

Batman merely shook his head, some regret coming through the cowl. "We should have instituted Delphi protocols when Beetle was discovered," he said gruffly.

"I agree. So I'm instituting them now." She took a deep breath. "B, be safe. Somehow, he'll land on his feet." She had to hope so, to keep thinking Dick was out there, safe or getting safe. Otherwise life was far from sane for the former Batgirl.

"Get to safety, O," he growled gruffly. "I…"

"Mayday!" An older emergency channel for the League flared to life for both of them, and long conditioned responses noted everything. The hysterical sobbing in the background, the urgency forcing its way through Connor Hawke's voice, and the grim tones of an intruder alarm were duly noted.

Then Connor tried to speak again, only to be talked over by the hysterical person who sounded somewhat like Kyle Rayner.

"Oh my god, Jenny….baby…." 

"Kyle, stop! Don't touch her! Don't touch anything!" Connor's voice came back to the link. The monk-trained archer was highly stressed, and Batman could feel a cold wind on his soul. "Mayday; any senior League member on this channel! Outsiders HQ has been compromised! Please respond!"

In tandem, the pair of bats knew exactly what was needed. Oracle remained silent, her inhuman voder the wrong touch for this. Batman spoke and even though his heart was locked deep inside an icy cage, he had just enough humanity to give the younger Green Arrow a lifeline of sanity.

"Arrow. Batman." The man inside the cowl steeled himself for the news he has dreaded might come, that his son, the child he raised and shaped has come to violent ends.

"Batman," the young Arrow replied with a surge of such shaken relief in his voice that even Oracle was biting her knuckles. "We need help here. The team…Jade's people…all of them here…" The fact the archer could not compose himself or reach his Zen place of tranquility to work around the situation and say it clearly alarmed Batman more. "They're dead, Batman. We need a team, one with no connections to the Outsiders." At that statement a fresh howl of pain was ripped from the throat of one of the most powerful beings on the planet. That agonized scream tore through a terrified father's heart and mind, but the Batman was nearly silent.

"I will see to it." He paused, letting a touch of concern come up, carefully placed there in his cold, calculating way of dealing with tragedy. He knew what needed to be done, even as he was considering whom to call in. "Now, take Green Lantern out of there, and keep him focused so that ring of his doesn't destroy evidence." At least until Batman had seen the crime scene, learned what he could.

"I will do that." There, Connor was close to normal, with a calm voice as he focused on helping Kyle out of the building. "Please hurry." The comm. link remained open as Batman refocused. He could hear the two younger heroes, but they no longer heard his side.

"Batman," Oracle prompted with a sickened, pain filled voice. "I have their cameras online."

`~`~`~`~`

Seeing it over the camera had been harsh, but seeing it in person was almost enough to make even Batman's façade crack. Finding a team to go in with him had been challenging. His first several options were too directly connected. In the end, before the police could go in, he took Mister Terrific and Jim Gordon inside with him, while Dove waited outside with Connor and Kyle, trying to console them. 

"Boys said they tripped the alarm when they forced the door." Jim shook his head. "Can't see these kids running the air so cold either…whoever came in, knew how, and wanted to leave a message."

Mister Terrific tried not to imagine what effect this was going to have, as he looked at the crime scene critically. Thankfully, Connor had restrained Kyle well enough that it did not appear to have suffered any tampering.

"Oracle was unable to bring up any data logs, and the cameras were wiped professionally, then reset to show us this," Batman said, forcing the worried father down. Two Outsiders missing. One his son. The other was a man with a proven susceptibility to brainwashing, possessing excellent weapons training, and a preference for .45 caliber handguns. By all indications, the exact caliber used to execute every single member of the team.

Except the other missing one.

"This is a warning," Mister Terrific said with a shudder. "Some of the best of our future leaders."

"Then we make sure we miss nothing," Batman growled, letting his emotions peak through as an intimidating sound. Both other men ignored it; Nightwing's absence had not gone unnoted.

"Batman," Huntress said in his comm. piece. "The case you sent me on…you were right. I've notified the police."

"The child?" His eyes briefly betrayed the pain he felt behind their lenses, before he clamped the discipline of the Bat in place.

"Missing. Sitter very dead. Forty-five to the temple." She sounded unhappy. "Rummaged look lets me say the child was taken from her bed, and certain items taken with her."

Batman merely tightened his jaw as a very ugly picture unfolded. It was going to be hateful enough to tell Ollie his son was missing.

Harder still to accuse the young man of being a cold-blooded murderer.

`~`~`~`~`


	9. Heavier than a Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varied hero reactions to what has happened

Batman returned from his canvassing of the other floors of the building with little more information than he'd had previously, barring that Starfire had been incapacitated within her room, actually in her own bed, and there were no recent traces of his son within the Tower. Arsenal's weapons were missing, as was a suit, and from the disarray of the bed he had apparently been there recently. How recently, was the question. He avoided the dried blood pooled on the floor--//whose blood, why? They were removed, also why?//--carefully, shifting the cape out of the way to cross the floor to Jim's side. 

Jim looked up, Mr. Terrific still completely absorbed in gathering data, and arched a brow. 

He shook his head, once. "Nothing above, other than that Starfire was taken down in her bed." He looked from body to body, seeing the severed ends of futures and bonds and partnerships, and said. "I have to go."

"Want company?"

He appreciated the offer more than he could ever express, especially with Jim's own daughter now vanished, in the midst of implementing deep-cover protocols, but, "No, Jim. Watch his back. We can't keep the police out much longer, and the media won't be far behind. Hold them off as long as you can. Their families--" //Deserve more than that from me. I backed them, backed Roy to do this... I have to go to them.// 

"You're right. I'll handle it. I'm still owed a favor or two, here and there. Go."

He nodded once, sharply, and turned to leave. Outside, he stopped next to Lantern, Arrow, and Dove. "Dove, I have calls to make. Take care of them. Arrow." 

"Yes, Batman?" the younger archer still sounded shaken, voice roughened by tears, but he was holding himself together well, unlike the utterly stricken Green Lantern, who was still shaking against his shoulder.

"This stays silent until I'm finished. I will not have the gossip chain alerting one of their families of a death. Silent to everyone. Even your father." 

He was unaccustomed to seeing that kind of mutinous set to the younger Arrow's dark jaw, and the suddenly defiant tilt of his head looked more like his missing brother than himself for a moment--then Connor sighed, and nodded slowly. "All right. But when you go, I go with you."

"Agreed." The insistence saved him the trouble of asking. Given Oliver's likely reaction to the combined pieces of news, //his love his first son his grandchild// having Connor there was definitely the better idea. Finished, he went swiftly to the Batwing and flew for home. On the way, he considered more names, ruling out one after another. Finally, with a mental sigh, he called for one of the younger JSA members, one who might be able to buffer Alan, or at least Molly, against the news, and could handle alerting the rest of her team that one of their own was down, one more missing. Interlinking the necessary communication channels took several moments, more yet to create a strictly person-to-person link, then, "Batman to Stargirl." 

"B-Batman?!" it took a moment before her startled voice answered. "I'm here, what can I do for you?"

"Meet me at the Sentinel's in twenty minutes." 

"What, wh--I'll be there." She'd collected herself quite professionally, he noticed.

"Batman out." He disconnected the link and returned his attention to the flight, mentally mapping out his next moves. Choi had no one he knew of. Jefferson was still living in Washington, DC, and would be his next stop. Rex was in space, and would have to be reached through what was left of the League. Starfire meant Victor Stone--that stop was definitely last, because as soon as one Titan knew, they all would. With all stealth systems engaged, he piloted the 'Wing back into the Cave and left in one of the cars that bore the least resemblance to the Batmobile. He did not need the complication of Gotham's annoyed police force, not today.

He pulled the car into a still-deserted warehouse, armed the security, and went from the ground floor to the roof to the 'rooftop expressway'--his heart clenched at the words, hearing his son's laughing voice coin them--and he headed for the Scotts home. He'd seen the flash of green flame pass over early in the morning, so it was reasonable to assume he was home, and not at work. If he was incorrect, Molly could surely call him back.

He dropped to the ground next to their home and within a few moments, Stargirl joined him. "Batman, what is it? Why--"

"You may be needed." Hating every moment of the bright sunlit exposure, he walked up to the door and knocked. It opened within a few moments, Molly's expression concerned. "Come in, quickly, before someone notices." 

He stepped inside, Stargirl following, and heard Alan's warm, calm baritone call, "Molly? Who was at the door?" 

"Batman, love. And Stargirl." 

That brought Alan into the hall itself, sharp eyes searching his face and that of the girl beside him, who responded with a puzzled gesture he could half-see. 

"Batman? What brings you to my door at this time of day?"

"Alan--" he could not believe the catch in his voice, or the fact that he had to swallow before he could continue. "Alan, Molly, you need to sit down, please."

"This must be bad. Molly, come on." Bruce watched him wrap a sheltering arm around his wife, and wondered how Jim hade done this so often. He followed them into the living room, and waited until they settled, Stargirl hovering anxiously next to them, attempting to glare at him.

"All right. What is it, Batman?"

There was simply no good way to say this, no way to cushion the blow... "It's Jenny-Lynn. All of the Outsiders, actually."

"Jenny? How bad is she hurt?!" quick, sharp question from the young girl. He looked at Alan... and saw the stricken, soul-deep understanding write itself across his face. 

"Courtney... Batman wouldn't be here if she was just hurt." Alan's voice was still so strong. "She's... gone, isn't she?" 

"Yes." He saw Molly struggling with tears, watched Stargirl drop like her strings had been cut onto the couch, and black, dark hatred burned in his soul over this.

"You said all of the Outsiders," Alan reminded him, demanding more information with agony blazed across his face. 

He nodded, and answered. "Everyone but Nightwing and Arsenal. No one has seen or heard from Nightwing since the end of the gang wars, and Arsenal is missing. Starfire, Grace, Thunder, and Shift, however... We found them all, inside the Tower." 

He watched Molly lose her battle with the tears, and Courtney wrap around her, Alan's spine so very stiff as he held tightly to his wife, grief and rage and a hundred other emotions blazing across his face. "Who?"

"We don't know. I left Terrific and Jim Gordon at the scene, processing it. The New York police may be inside by now. Alan... Kyle found them." 

Alan winced, eyes dropping closed, a few tears beginning to streak down his face. He seemed not to notice them, and reopened his eyes. "Poor child. How can I help?"

"Tell the rest of the JSA." He left the 'they're your family,' unspoken, "but then keep it quiet until I can reach everyone involved."

The Sentinel nodded once, sharp and precise. "I can do that. What else is there, Batman?"

He'd hoped to give this a moment, give them time to absorb one shock before slamming them with the other. "Dinah's missing. She's been taken. The Birds found her gear and her costume scattered across Metropolis." 

Shock lashed across Alan's face again, and Molly pressed tighter to her husband, shaking as Alan crumpled, leaning into her. Hearing about his daughter had been a deeply personal blow for himself, but this was going to hit one of his best friends just as hard. Courtney's face was the color of chalk, nearly as pale as her costume, and for a moment he was concerned that she had stopped breathing. Her soft whisper of "oh, no..." was almost lost in Molly's single, louder word, "Ted..."

//Wildcat.// That was going to be bad. The bonds between the burly fighter and Dinah were well-known and deep. He wasn't going to take it well. 

"Dinah'll be okay, she'll come out on top. She has to." The Bat wished he had a tenth of Stargirl’s faith, but given the current situation... She might very well not. 

"Batman, you see to the other parents, I'll handle telling Ted and my team."

"Thank you, Alan." 

"No. Thank you, for not letting me simply receive a phone call."

The Bat shook his head, negating even the possibility of that end--//I lost a child too, Alan. I would not let--// and Alan spoke again. "Go now, before another parent is not so fortunate." 

He nodded once, and turned to leave, Molly's shaken sobs echoing in his ears like thunderbolts. 

*~*~*

He turned the Batwing south for D.C., stealth fully engaged and below the radar line, ignoring the surging waves below to place another comm. call, this one to his one-time teammate and friend. //Pierce... I’m so sorry.// 

"Jefferson Pierce, who is this?"

"It’s me. We need to talk. Half an hour, the old airstrip." He would know which one, it was a longstanding fallback point. 

"I can't ju--"

"Yes, you can. Meet me." He wanted to say so many things, 'Don't turn on the news' and 'leave the radio off' just to begin--but there was no faster way to get him to do precisely what you didn't want, like so many of the heroes. //Like Dic--stop that. You'll find him. He's just gone to ground, after what happened. (He wouldn't leave Ti--) Just. Stop. You have other things to concentrate on.// He forced back the thoughts, listening to Jefferson grumble a little longer. Finally, "All right, I'll come. This had better be important..."

//You have no idea.// "Out." 

He taxied the jet to the end of the runway and into the open hangar. He dropped out--and Jefferson looked up from chocking one of the wheels. "So what's going on?"

"Jefferson... it's Anissa." The daughter he'd hidden from everyone, the daughter he'd never wanted to see follow in his footsteps--and she'd been utterly unwilling to do anything else. He watched him pale, then go dark with anger, his temper boiling up already. 

"What's happened to my daughter, Bats?"

"Someone--actually, almost certainly several someones--attacked the Outsiders headquarters, very professionally. There were... no survivors when Green Lantern and Green Arrow found them. Mr. Terrific is on-site--" 

That was as far as he managed to get before Jefferson crashed to his knees, hands clenching in fists.

"No, damn you, no! Not my daughter!!!" The energy began to crackle around those hands, through the eyes. Batman crouched, getting on eye level with him.

"Don't." His voice was tough, guttural as he snarled the word. "Don't take away her choice's meaning by doing this! You hang on to your control; hang on to this rage and grief... and help me find who did this!" 

The words took a long, hard moment to sink in, then the energy grounded out, and Jefferson hung his head, sobbing in a gasping breath. Now, Batman reached out, laying a heavy hand on the man's shoulder.

"I'm there for you, Batman. I swear... Just losing Joanna... and now Anissa..." The man was shaken to his core, unsure of why he still lived when the hero business had taken two bright and beautiful women from his family... especially his beloved daughter.

"You know how to reach me... and I need you to alert the others," Batman said, giving him purpose. "No details yet, but have them ready to move."

"Yeah..." The depth of his loss showed in that imprecise word. Jefferson was a very educated man, and preferred to show it at all times.

"I've got others... I'm against the media clock," Batman told his friend, knowing that he would understand, no matter the pain. Jefferson nodded, slowly, and pulled his head up.

"Go... and I'll get the team." He struggled up, accepting Batman's hand when the other was up quicker. "Who's leading our side of the investigation?"

"Mister Terrific." That made Jefferson nod sharply.

"Heard he's good."

"Better than me, Jefferson."

Those words drew a surprised look--and then one of realization and sympathy. "Batman, what about Nightwing?"

"Missing. He vanished last month. The only Outsider I'm not certain is dead is Arsenal--if he is, his body wasn't there." 

Jefferson looked puzzled by that particular omission. He knew from Anissa that Roy was a rock solid teammate, a man who lived for one thing outside his own daughter. That reason, like Anissa's, was to be a hero as good as his parent, or better.

Batman had no answer, and his suspicion was staying in his own mind only until there was some corroborating evidence. Throwing suspicions around would serve no one but their enemies. "I don't know. Jefferson... I..."

"It's all right, Batman. You don't have to say it. Go. I'll get the blocks and start contacting people." 

He nodded and climbed back into the jet, waiting until he saw Jefferson step well clear to reignite the engine and taxi out. //I can't beat the news across the continent, and Jim can't stall them much longer.// That was simple fact, and for a moment he missed the simplicity of the transporter within the Cave, but he would not go back to the League now. Green Lantern was in no shape to make the trip--if he was even capable of enough focus to wield the ring--and with Kal and West both on an urgent mission in space with J'onn, he refused to be carried along like baggage on what was his problem, not the League's. Diana was--he couldn't think about Diana, not now, not with these deaths as well... Few options left... and only one he could stand at this moment. He dialed Jason Blood. 

"Bruce?" the mage's voice was startled. 

"Jason. I... need to be on the West Coast an hour ago, with the younger Green Arrow. Can you come to the Cave within the hour?" 

"Of course. Bruce, you sound--"

"Jason." //Don't, not now. I can't.// 

"As you wish." The Bat could hear the 'for now' in his one-time teacher's voice clear as day.

"Out." He disconnected, and routed a call to Connor. "Arrow." 

"Batman. Mr. Terrific has allowed the police within. We've kept the reporters away for now, but..."

"Is Lantern still conscious?"

"Yes... he's, well--" Connor struggled for the words, and Bruce saved him the trouble.

"I know. Is he capable of bringing you to Gotham?"

"I... will ask." He heard the soft noise of muffled voices, then Connor's voice returned. "He says yes. We'll be right there." 

"Batman out." That finished, he turned his attention to flying, pushing the jet hard to beat the Lantern into his Cave. When he touched down and returned to the main level, Alfred was waiting beside the computers, a deeply concerned look on his face. "Master Bruce, what has happened? I awoke to find rather a state of disarray..." 

"Someone hit the Outsiders, Alfred. No survivors. Jim and Mr. Terrific are processing the scene. Arsenal's missing along with his daughter, and someone took Dinah out from under Oracle's nose. She's initiated Delphi, and will make contact once secure. Blood will be here along with Green Lantern and Green Arrow within the next few minutes. See to Kyle, he found them. I have to reach Ollie and Victor before the vultures get it onto the air." Only decades of perfect emotional control allowed him to hold to the Bat's voice with this man, about this, in the middle of this.... "Get the signal watch, Alfred, put it on, and change the security settings throughout the grounds. I'll contact Robin when I reach Cyborg. If Batgirl will return, bring her home. The Haven can handle itself." 

The harsh indrawing of breath echoed loud within the Cave, and Alfred's impassive façade cracked to reveal all the fear as he asked, "And Master Richard?"

"No trace, Alfred. He wasn't with them, either." 

Relief washed across Alfred's face... and Jason walked in through the tunnel with his usual courtesy. He could have appeared anywhere he chose. "Bruce?" he called, looking around.

"Here." 

Moments behind him came Lantern and Arrow, Kyle's path slightly unsteady as they dropped next to Jason. 

"Master Blood. Master Hawke." Alfred spoke to them both, but his attention was on the weakened, ravaged Lantern. "Master Rayner. Come above," he encouraged, and when Hawke pushed gently on Kyle's shoulder, he nodded and allowed Alfred to shepherd him out of the cave. 

"Green Arrow, meet Jason Blood, mage. Jason, Green Arrow."

Connor tilted his head slightly, thinking, then nodded. "It's a pleasure."

"A mutual one. Batman, what's the crisis?"

"Listen in while I tell Ollie. That's where we're headed. Star City, as quickly as you can manage it." 

Jason gave him a sharp, long look, and his face shifted in the way that meant Etrigan was loud within him. He forced it back after a moment, and looked straight into his eyes, despite the lenses in the way. "You get more annoying by the year. Come close, both of you." 

He stepped over, mentally cursing how well Jason knew him. His teacher knew there was something wrong, now, and apparently The Demon did as well. Jason began to chant, casting... and when his vision cleared from the blur of travel, they were standing beside Star City's harbor. "Hopefully this suits well enough," Jason said, his voice exhausted.

"More than. Arrow?" 

"This way," he answered and took off, posture betraying a man trying not to run, and he followed. He heard Jason at his side and trailed Connor over the roofs until they reached Ollie's residence and dropped down behind it. 

Connor let himself in and called out, "Dad! DAD!"

"Connor? Shouldn't you be in--Batman? Blood?" Ollie'd stuck his head out of the kitchen, and the curious warmth had bleached to cautious unease. He stepped fully out of the kitchen, leaning back against the wall. 

"Ollie, you need to sit down." 

"Now I know the world's ending, but, okay, Bats." He walked towards the living room, and settled into a chair. Connor dropped to sit on his heels next to the chair, somehow managing to watch both of them as Batman considered for a moment how to lay this out. Jason leaned back against one wall, catching his breath. 

"Tell me straight, Bats. What in hell brings you here, in full daylight? Thought your type was nocturnal." Ollie's wise crack covered a deep fear; he knew this man too well to think it was not deeply serious.

Bruce let his eyes close behind the cowl, and answered. "Connor put a mayday across the old league channel approximately two hours ago, from the Outsiders headquarters. I responded. Ollie," personal name, for the friendship they'd once had, "Every meta Outsider is dead, taken down and executed. Roy's missing, and Huntress reported to me that Lian's been taken."

Connor's face whitened with shock and he grabbed for his father's hand. 

Ollie flinched violently, his face draining of color. The world seemed to be spinning out of control as he sat very still, before slowly looking to his son Connor. His expression said so many things, not confined to relief that one son was with him, fear for the other son, and a need to just deny the news he had been given. "Br...Bats, it can't be," Ollie denied, turning back once he had the boy's hand clasped tight in his own.

"It is. I walked the scene myself. I've been to Alan and to Jefferson. I can't contact Rex--he's with Superman and Flash in the next quadrant--and Cyborg. They were finished by .45 caliber rounds to the back of the skull once they were down." /

Connor just clung to him. He'd known his brother was missing, but his niece, too? Who would do this, and why?

".45's..." Ollie grimaced. "I...I can't think why he would have been anywhere else, or out of contact, to not get the alarm if someone broke in," Ollie managed to say. "He set their security himself." Ollie looked up at the ceiling, trying to hide the moisture forming in his eyes. "And Lian...Could it have been that bitch Cheshire?"

"I don't keep close tabs on her, but it's possible. This early, there's no ruling anyone out." //Even your son, and it sounds like you know it.// 

"We tripped the alarms. Kyle and I, forcing the doors to get in when no-one picked up and Jade and Roy both weren't answering their phones..." Connor spoke up from beside him. 

Ollie wiped irritably at his eyes, standing up to pace in contained fury and grief. "Dammit Bats, must be some clue!"

"Terrific's on it, Ollie. If there is, he'll find it. But it was professional work, even at a first look. Policed brass, precise shots, nothing wasted." When Ollie came close, put his body between Connor's eyes and his own hands, one hand flashed in an old, quick signal. //Privacy,// it demanded, and he tipped his head slightly towards the youngest. //Pay attention, Queen,// he thought loudly.

"I..." Ollie's jaw set for a moment in the old way, before he flushed. "Connor, son... go get Mia...and call Hal for me." He then looked at Bruce with a helplessness at war with stubborn denial.

Connor nodded and rose in one quick flow, "Keys in the kitchen?" He'd seen that motion, but the idea of his sister alone was making his skin crawl, and Ollie needed more support than he could give. He'd take the cell along and call from the car. / Once the door closed behind him. "That's not all, Ollie."

Ollie let out a harsh sigh. "Not enough to come tell me my son...my boy is missing with my granddaughter?" //Or to accuse him like I hear in your voice?// The man paced away. "What about Di...Nightwing? He ever turn up?"

"No. He's completely vanished... Ollie, it's Dinah." His voice slipped, and it was hard for him to care that it did. They'd been occasional rivals over the vivacious fighter for years, but one thing never in doubt had been the archer's love for her. His commitment and his sanity had both come into question, but not that he loved her. 

Ollie staggered, catching himself on the mantle, his eyes going immediately to the picture there, the one he never removed, even when it got real heavy with Dawn. It had not been very many days since he saw her last, as they tried to plan how to keep responding to League events with the League itself splitting apart from the foundation up. With J'onn, Clark and Wally gone, they were fracturing into bits already. As it sank fully in, he felt like he could not breathe, and it took all his ability to ask. "Dead?" //Please god, I can't live through that! She's my soul! //

"Unknown. Oracle's team found her comm gear in an alley this morning, all of her costume ten blocks the other direction. That leads me to believe she's alive." He couldn't bring himself to believe she was dead, not with that kind of care having been taken.

The ragged sigh told Batman that Ollie would never stop hoping, that he would cling to the belief both of his missing family were alive somewhere. "Any chance... no, you'd have known. If she had reason to go deep." He shivered, remembering Seattle, her deep assignment to find the slasher. "Dammit Bats, why?! Why my Boy's team?"

"I don't know. I can't see the profit in it. Starfire's death will make every last Titan hunt her killer to the ends of the earth. Once the JSA regroups from the shock, they'll go on the hunt as well, with one of their children dead and one missing. My Outsiders are going to be out for blood for Jefferson's sake, and taking out Shift enrages Rex and all of his. This kind of a hit... it's suicide."

Ollie shook his head. "Makes no fucking sense, Bats. What fucking psychopath hits a team like that, knowing damn well that kind of firepower will come after them?" He met Batman's eyes, wishing the damn mask wasn't there, so he could see the truth of his old friend's thoughts.

Bruce reached up after a moment, fighting himself to do so, and flicked the lenses back, strain and grief and forced down, pushed back fear in his eyes. "Someone very sure that we're going to be too busy to come after them..." 

Ollie searched those eyes a long moment. "With the League the way it is, we are stretched thin right now," Ollie agreed, choking down the bile he felt that this man, his one time friend could think his Roy was that cold blooded.

"Very," Bruce nodded. "And unless there's something at that scene I didn't see, we aren't going to know who for a while... This... is going to be worse than Sue's funeral, Ollie. There's going to be too much rage for anyone to think clearly, throughout the community... and with Dick and Roy missing, it's going to backlash. I can see it coming--but I can't see a way around it." He knew his people too well, could even predict where the worst of it would come from... and it was unavoidable. 

"God dammit." Ollie turned away again. "We're fucking being ripped apart, piece by piece, and there's not a god damned thing we can do about it?!" He clenched his hands into fists. "What happened to us?! When did we let it all get away?!"

"You tell me, Ollie."

Ollie felt his own shoulders slump in defeat. It all came back to that. "Bats..." He bit his tongue then, refusing to air it now, not with Blood right there. "Our boys are out there, and they might have the answers we need," he said instead, turning back to the man. "Time for the Brave and the Bold to get their acts together?" He was reaching, trying to let Batman put the past aside, for sake of the future.

"...past time. If we don't, who will?" There was no point in his anger, no value in holding on to his rage over long-past events... not with his son on the line. Both of their sons, and the woman they both--cared deeply for. The memory of her lips flickered through his mind for just a moment. 

Jason knew, then, that whatever was riding his old student so hard had it's roots in that flat statement and the utter defeat it brought, and the demon within him clamored in rage for answers. "If you will allow, I may be able to find them. Give me something of theirs--it will be destroyed, I warn you. But something that holds a part of them."

Ollie hesitated, then walked over to a wall safe, opening it quickly. From with in, he pulled two items. One was an arrow, the other a mask Batman knew all too well. It was Speedy's original mask, no doubt the one from before the drugs drove Ollie to kick him out. He handled both objects reverently, then slipped the mask back into the safe. "Here... first arrow he ever made after becoming my partner." Ollie spoke in gruff tones,; giving it up came at a price, but he would pay anything to have his boy safe.

Jason took that with all the solemnity it deserved, nodding once. 

"Everything like that of Dick's is in the Manor, Jason. We'll have to go back... I still must reach Vic before the news does--Robin's in the Tower as well." 

A fist rat-a-tat-ed against the main door, harsh, brash knock that nearly screamed Hal Jordan's name.

"Go Bats...." Ollie made a small, abortive attempt to reach out, then stilled himself and put his hand behind his back. "Come in, Hal," he choked out, moving back to the mantle, to the picture. His Pretty Bird was standing in it, years ago with her short, dark hair, his boy pressed up under her arm casually, both of them laughing for him as he snapped the shot.

Hal pushed the door open and walked in, as young (younger) and bold as the first time Bruce had seen him, and the Bat was grateful he'd managed to return. He was the only person that could keep Ollie grounded, now. "Bruce, Blood... Ollie, what the hell's going on? Connor sounds awful, and this pair's here?" Then he really saw his best friend, and crossed the room in a few long strides, hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" 

Blood nodded at Hal, and carefully tucked the arrow away, waiting for Bruce's word to go. 

Ollie shook his head. "They're both missing, Hal. Pretty Bird, and my boy. My boy's whole team...'cept rob...Nightwing... dead." A moment later, "And Lian, too, my grandbaby..." 

"Oh, gods. The Outsiders are... And Roy's missing, and Dinah? What in the hell? So, where's your kid, Bats?" Hal wrapped his arm hard around Ollie's shoulders, hand fisting into the shirt to let him know he wasn't alone.

"I don't know... he vanished, almost a month ago. The Titans have to be told, Hal," and his eyes said, //Take care of him.// 

Hal glared back, then nodded once, harshly, and turned his attention back to Ollie completely. "Both... I found Roy once. I can do it again. And I've tracked Dinah. Ollie, we'll find them." 

Ollie in safe hands--and when had Hal Jordan regained that accolade?--Bruce took the steps to his former teacher, and nodded. 

Hal guided Ollie to the couch, ignoring the other two as they prepared to leave, intent solely on keeping Ollie together.

Jason started to chant again, and with a faint reek of sulphur, the two were gone.

*~*~*~

A lazy Tuesday morning in the Titan's Tower was suddenly shattered as Raven leapt to her feet at the breakfast table, eyes wide, hands flattened against the tabletop, breathing quick and erratic, power surging around her hands. 

"Ray?!" Vic was the first to react, getting to his feet worriedly, Beast Boy half a second behind him. 

"Demon, there's a demon here," she replied, words coming in quick succession. "Outside." 

Vic blinked, reaching to connect to the monitors, then relaxed. "It's just Jason Blood, Raven... and Batman!?"

"Oh, shit!" was Gar's to-the-point opinion. "I'm going to go wake Robin." Three morning people and one night owl made for interesting schedules, but no way were they dealing with Batman without Robin. 

Raven shuddered, trying to calm down. "I'll, ah, be upstairs..." The sooner she got behind the extra shields on her room, the safer they all would be.

Vic sighed softly, nodded, and went out to meet Batman, wondering how it was that he always got stuck with this sort of thing. "Batman, good morning... Hi," he nodded at the Mage. 'Blood' meant something very specific to the Titans, especially right now, but the knight-turned-mage wasn't the kind of guy you just said 'hey, Jase' to. 

Bruce watched the half-smile on Cyborg's face and forced himself to nod. "Victor." 

"Are you... looking for Robin? Because Gar went to wake him up..."

"No, I wasn't. There's news. You should probably all be sitting down for this." Jason winced, off to his left, and he turned, "Blood?" 

"I'm all right. I believe I shall remain here, however. Etrigan is being... vocal, about Raven. Best not to push things."

Batman nodded once. From that expression, Etrigan was giving Jason serious problems. He made a mental note for later, and followed Victor into the Tower, then into the main den, where Vic settled onto a couch and waved his hand at the rest of the seating in offering. He shook his head, denying the need, and Robin came through the door silently, the set of his jaw and shoulders telegraphing apprehension and defiance to his elder partner. He knew what his own body was displaying a heartbeat too late, when Tim's shoulders tightened in reaction and his cheeks went pale. Beast Boy was hovering outside the door, obviously torn, and he spoke up. "Garfield. Is Raven awake?"

"She's in her room, Etrigan out there threw her for a loop and she's hiding in her shields. D'you need her?" The boy hovered in the doorway.

"It's not necessary. Come in, you all need to hear this." 

The boy settled next to Victor, unsurprisingly, and watched him warily. Robin's eyes were narrowed behind the mask, and he could hear that agile mind trying to rationalize the situation at hand and failing due to lack of information. "Robin, I'll give you additional details once I'm finished. Victor, Garfield. Two and a half hours ago, the younger Green Arrow hailed all senior League members via an old comm. channel from the Outsiders headquarters. When I responded, Starfire, Shift, Grace, Thunder, and Jade were all down, professionally executed in the main lobby. You all know Nightwing is still missing. Now, so is Arsenal--on first look, there was no trace of him at the scene. Mr. Terrific is processing the scene. Once he's finished, it will be turned over to the NYPD. Lian Harper is also missing, her sitter also dead. You'll be needed in New York to identify the body, Victor. With Dick missing, you're her posted next of kin."

He'd kept his head turned to Cyborg, but his eyes watched Robin's face, watched him struggle with shock and dismay and win, just barely. The thought that this last blow might be too much for his young partner had, thankfully, been apparently incorrect, Robin was still in control. He'd accepted Tim's decision to move west to the Tower after all of the deaths he had suffered--Gotham held too many memories for his Robin, at the moment--better he be safely in the elder Titan's hands than alone in the city that had swallowed his older son's life and soul. 

"Oh, god, no," the automatic denial fell from Beast Boy's lips, not Cyborg's, and when he looked back the two were almost identically stunned. "Not Goldie, no..." His voice was helpless, shaken, and he looked so young... //They're all so young.// 

Victor's jaw worked a moment before he could speak. "I... thank you, Batman. For not letting us catch it on the morning news. I'll be in the City as quickly as I can... but first..." he trailed off, hand waving towards the monitors. 

"You have family to contact. I know. That's why I came. The bodies may be in police custody for some time," he warned the young man. The others had already known, but he was less certain of Stone. 

"I know. What do I tell the Titans, though? When are we..."

"Talk to the Sentinel and Black Lightning about that." He preferred it be soon, so that they could grieve and move on, but it was not his decision, on any level. 

"Right. I'll do that," and Cyborg's head dropped into his hands, elbows braced on his knees. "I never wanted to do this again," his voice soft, almost broken. "I... I'll get on it."

Beast Boy changed shape, and a large cat pushed its way under Vic's arms to sit on him, purring with stress and fear, and Batman nodded once. "Robin." The word was an order, and the teen nodded, coming to his feet to follow him out of the room, out onto the grounds, posture savagely alert, expression hidden behind the perfect mask of his face. 

"You said you had more details," as they stopped and faced each other. 

"Yes. Oracle and I were on-line when Green Arrow's call came through. Black Canary disappeared this morning. Blue Beetle is dead. Dick's vanished--"

"She's initiating Delphi," Robin finished his thought.

"Yes. Whoever took her knew not only to remove her jewelry, but that her costume was riddled with tracers, the Birds found it, as well. We have no way to find her, any transmission should be considered compromised. Until Oracle re-establishes contact, we're out an information broker."

"What else?"

"The perimeter alarms were never triggered. Starfire was disabled while still in bed, and then finished in the main lobby with the rest of them. In contrast, Jade, Thunder, and Grace were all injured, and there was damage to the building's structure from a struggle. Shift was incapacitated at an unknown time. Excluding Shift, all were executed by means of a single .45 round to the back of the skull. Very professionally done, very clean."

Robin whistled, low and soft, "That takes talent, to hack security Dick and Roy put together..." His lips hardened. "Or an insider... but Dick wouldn't let Kory die. Not of his own volition. And Roy wouldn't turn on his team. Hm. Someone might have gotten to one of them... or even both... but why take Lian? This doesn't add up--and I'm baffled as to who would willingly incite this kind of reaction. I mean..."

"The repercussions are going to be severe, yes."

"That's kind of like calling water wet, Batman," Robin said acidly, then paused. "Do you need me in Gotham?"

"No. You're going to be needed here. I sent A to locate Batgirl, she should be backup enough. Cyborg's going to be distracted, check your security again. I don't need to tell you what routines. A has reinforced the security on the grounds, should you find a need to return. If Nightwing contacts you..." Slim, slim hope.

"Treat it as compromised, flag or trace the routes, search it for encoding and copy it to you. Yes."

Of course Robin knew. "As more information becomes available, I'll copy you on it, and leave it to your discretion what to share with the Titans."

"I appreciate it. I need to be with my team..." he looked backwards, and Bruce agreed. "Go. Jason and I are returning to the Cave, the usual comm. channels will be active."

Robin nodded once, and turned to trot back to the Tower. Jason walked up behind him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Ready?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Are these jumps--"

"I am fine. Let us return." 

//And you call me stubborn?// he thought, listening to Jason begin the chant again... and then they were safely returned to the Cave. He called out the nonsense phrases that ordered the Crays to cease the defense routines, and walked quickly across to the costume vault, steeling himself against the coming loss. Within the vault, he spun the combination to the floor safe and pulled it open. His hands slipped through several items, finally lifting two out, carrying them back to Jason. "Here," he said harshly, giving up Dick's gauntlets, remembering every time they'd locked around his wrists in perfect trust... 

"Those should do, yes. This spell will take me some time, Bruce, and requires components from my workroom. Would you prefer I cast it there, or return?"

He was torn for a moment, then answered. "If you'll be safe, return. I--" he stopped, shaking his head, unable to say what he was thinking, even to Jason, not if he was going to hold on to his composure.

"I shall," Jason nodded, and walked swiftly towards the tunnel exit, then was gone. 

He sat down to begin documenting the day's events, getting every detail down while it was still fresh in his mind. The bats rustled and squeaked above, seeming louder than usual in the echoing, utter emptiness of the Cave.


	10. Quest for Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuance of the hero reaction

Mister Terrific immediately returned to work as Batman strode out, not envying him his task in the least. Dealing with the dead was far easier than comforting the living. His T-spheres were almost through cataloguing the damage done in what had apparently been a very brief fight. Thunder and Jade seemed to have been attacked the most viciously, and there was considerable damage where Thunder's last stand had happened. The fact Jade had gotten off a few attacks appeased the small part of his mind that had not shut off completely for analysis. 

The pattern of each fight indicated complete surprise. With documentation, he was able to identify where each person had been at the beginning, based on marks in the rooms, then surmise that they had all been brought here, to the common room. Blood spatters and body positions indicated the executions had come after the victims were unconscious, so he called that one small mercy. The complete lack of casings indicated a very professional job, one of a very highly trained assassin.

He had one small puzzle; preliminary results from his T-spheres had not identified a blood source. It was smeared near a post where some hair samples had been retrieved, and matched some that marked a wall behind the smear at a strange angle. 

"Note: one of the attackers was severely injured. Findings indicate at least two separate injuries, one of which occurred in the room where all were brought." He inspected the main blood pattern and had his T-spheres sweep the area surrounding it, pleased when they yielded hair samples. Another thorough sweep of the affected areas, and Mister Terrific gave the go ahead for the police to Gordon. He had enough to reformulate every detail in holographic imagery. All his samples would be shared to police forensics, just like Sue's case should have been. Heroes, and their tragedies, still fell within the laws of the land.

`~`~`~`~`

"..indicate the killings took place some time over the weekend. The Hero community continues to maintain silence, despite the rising number of crimes within and against their ranks…" Doctor Mid-nite muted the story, helping run the samples. Mister Terrific was thankful for that, having been informed by NYPD that the bodies would be brought in around midnight.

"Pieter," Terrific began. "You should probably know something else happened. It's not being reported, because of her general population appeal, but Alan came here earlier, took Jay with him to find Wildcat."

The doctor froze for just a moment, understanding it but needing to know further. "Tell me the details, Michael," the blind man said neutrally. 

"I only heard she is missing, has been since around dawn today. None of her gear is with her; they found it all in two separate locations." Michael spared a look to his friend, knowing that time had not dulled the man's wistful affection for the blonde.

 

"I'll check in on Ted tonight," Mid-nite promised. "Right now, we have killers to catch."

`~`~`~`~`

Joan kept her arm around Alan as they escorted him to their couch. Jay had insisted on bringing the oldest Lantern here first, and then he would see to getting Ted into the house. Jay had barely heard three words of Alan's past 'Jenny killed', until Alan had said 'Ted's hellcat missing'. 

Twenty minutes later, as Alan was holding a cup of coffee in his hand, and Joan was wringing her apron through nervous hands, Jay and Ted walked in, a dazed looking Bart in tow. Joan almost blessed her husband for bringing him home; this was no time to be separated or have their young man exposed in a public setting.

"So you drag me out of an alley fight, run me all the way here, for…Alan?" Ted stopped grumbling and strode over to their friend, crouching in front of him. "Alan, what's happened? Molly? She okay?"

"Ted, have a seat please," Joan said primly. "Bart, go get Ted a cup of coffee with two sugars, one dollop of the 'cream' above the refrigerator." Ted was looking rebellious, smelling trouble afoot, and concerned by Alan's pallor. But no one disobeyed Joan once she kicked into den mother mode, and Jay had already settled into his easy chair, leaning forward. When Joan went and perched on his knee, Ted knew it was very, very bad.

"Here you go, Ted…sir." Bart placed the cup in the boxer's hands, smiling when he sipped the Irish coffee. The young speedster hovered uncertainly, and then Jay looked at him. 

"You need to hear this too, Kid Flash." The use of the hero name had an immediate effect; Bart came to attention briefly then took a chair at the other end of the room. "Alan came to get me, because Batman went to him. It seems that our little girl Jenny-Lynn…" Jay had to stop, unable to say it, and Ted just dropped his jaw.

"Jade's hurt?" Bart asked with hope that was all that had happened.

"No, Bart." Jay wrapped his arms around Joan's waist as she found strength to speak. "Alan explained to me while Jay brought Ted and you here, Bart. The entire Outsiders' team was killed, including Jenny." 

Bart felt a deep terror and panic well up inside of him, hearing Joan say that the entire team was dead. He tumbled over every memory he had of Arsenal, until Jay caught his eye.

"Roy Harper was not among them. Apparently he was missing, as was Nightwing." Jay felt sure with a speedster's intuition that meant something. Ted moved to sit next to Alan, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

"Alan, if you need anything…" he began.

"Ted," Alan began gruffly. "There was news not made public," he said, clearing his throat as he did. "Your hellcat…"

Ted's face bleached white.

"We can hope for her," Jay said quickly. "She's missing, from Metropolis this morning. Gear completely removed and methodically left."

"My baby bird is out there, and so is whoever did this to our shining star," Ted growled, rising immediately. "We need…"

"We need to give Michael and Pieter time to work, and time to try and figure out who would have wanted Dinah in one piece, enough to snatch her from Superman's town." Jay stepped up, taking the lead between them. "Bart, you probably need to get to your team soon, but first…I want you to go to every single JSA member and reservist…the League ones too, and tell them high alert. Don't explain what we know; just tell them all that a global threat may be involved."

"What about me?" Ted asked, belligerence in his eyes, along with tears refusing to fall.

He looked at Alan and Ted both. "Alan, take Ted home with you. Go back to Molly. Wait for me to call." The elder statesman of the JSA pushed grief and worry down. "We let our kids stand on their own two feet; doesn't mean we don't regret it coming to this. And it damned sure means we're going to find out who and make them pay."

`~`~`~`~`

"Shift doesn't respond to anything…what is in that tube is just so much matter," Mid-nite said much later in the night. "I'm not sure what they did, but he's not reforming like Mason would."

"True. Come look at this." Terrific gave the microscope to his colleague, and rubbed at his eyes wearily.

"That chemical compound is not even terrestrial," Mid-nite said. "It looks like it shares a basic formula with the Tamaranian's DNA."

"It does, apparently. A very specific nerve toxin designed to take her out." He shook his head. "Explains how they took her down without a fight."

"Who would know information like that?" The blind man turned to rub his face into his owl's plumage for comfort.

"We have two missing Outsiders," Terrific said in a grim voice. "One or both may have been compromised by this new Society we keep hearing about. They've likely got some crack telepaths of their own." Mid-nite nodded then turned to check as a test result popped up.

"Make that two missing now, but one was assuredly there," he said as the DNA match showed Roy Harper's name and vital statistics. "Those samples near the blood were his."

"We typed the blood to a potential match with Interpol files for one Lady Elaine Marsh-Morton, also known as Lady Vic." Terrific added that information to his growing file.

"Just begs the question, though. Where is Roy Harper now?"


	11. Emerald Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal and Ollie catch up on the events

Once back, Ollie breathed a sigh of relief that the kids were safe and sound now at Titan's Tower. 

The speed of the kids' reactions to their approach had been comforting, if slightly startling. The news they'd had was worrisome, but he was too badly needed here to go gallivanting off into space to fight a storm. He'd leave that to the kid, this time, unless thinks went even more wrong...

"They'll be fine, Ollie," Hal said as his hands settled on his shoulders, thumbs pressing at the first hard knot of muscle he found--high in the nape of his neck. //Oh, Ollie...// He knew what it took to put those knots there, and it worried him. "That's a good bunch of kids. Quick, too." 

"They'll keep each others' back," Ollie said darkly.

"You're right, they will," Hal agreed, still rubbing. With Ollie in this dangerous a mood--and who could blame him?--it was best to take it easy. 

Ollie grunted, but let his head hang forward, knowing he did not need a knotted muscle right now.

A knot? What wasn't knotted up, at this point? They'd all learned, with varying degrees of skill, how to ease some of the pains their lives brought, and Hal kept working, touch occasionally lightening to a caress, just for a moment, letting himself take the time to breathe his scent... Of all the things he'd missed and regretted and wanted... Ollie had topped the list. 

"Thanks Hal." Ollie sounded almost calm. "Can't keep pushing with those muscles corded...won't get a good pull."

"No problem, Ollie. Anytime, you know it..." He laid his cheek against the back of the other man's head, working out his shoulders.

Ollie smiled, pressing into the touch briefly. "I really ought to get back out there, now the kids are safe."

Hal sighed softly, closing his eyes, still working. "Ollie, if there's a source in three states that knows anything, they've gone to ground deep. I can't find them, J'onn," his eyes shut tighter, "told me he couldn't hear her, even Bats is running blind... and what's left of the League is going to need us both..."

"Hal...I have to find them. How can I choose the fucking League over my granddaughter? Over my son?" //Over the woman I wanted at my side for eternity?//

Hal sighed softly, "What good is it going to do to run yourself into the ground chasing shadows, Ollie? I've tried everything I can to help, I'm..." His hands shifted, before going back to working on his shoulders. 

Ollie leaned his head back, shifting with too much anger, too much hostility. "Hal, I'm not sitting in this house while the world falls to hell and back."

"When was the last time you slept?" His hands caught that rise in tension and he tried again to smooth it away... Dealing with Ollie when he was knife-edged like this was, in its own way, as difficult as dealing with the Bat--and he hated trying to work around it... Once, he wouldn't have had to...

"I don't know." At least Ollie admitted it. He did not try to hide when he did not sleep or eat. And there had been too much of both happening even before his family vanished, as the whole mess with Light had come out.

"Then it's been too long," Hal told him, frowning. 

"I can't!" Ollie shot up and away from him, falling into the tiger-pace he had when he felt the world was ignoring his efforts to save it. "I see..." //her face, the blood, feel the fear...him, so thin, so haggard because I screwed up...that sweet baby, crying...looking for us// "I can't, Hal. Better to keep looking."

Hal judged that for a long moment, unable to smile even at all of the memories of that same motion, then stepped and caught him, wrapping an arm around him, "You've got to, Ollie. You need it..." 

Ollie's jaw clenched, and Hal saw those failures haunting his friend, saw the pain of Speedy's addiction, of The Slasher, of Lian in the Yakuza's clutches written in every fiber of the man. "Hal, I need to keep working."

"And you need to be at the top of your game," Hal replied, holding him against him, hand hard against his back.

"Bruce isn't quitting...he's going after that satellite...I should be with him if I am so useless here," Ollie growled.

//He did not just...// Hal's brown eyes snapped with flame. "Bruce, as we all know, can be an idiot, and he's got to find the damned thing before he can go after it, Ollie. Which, as far as I know, he hasn't managed yet." //So what do you know that I don't? And since when are you two so tight?// Hal's hands tightened on him possessively, at the very thought. 

Ollie looked down at the hands, then back up. //I knew him first...and he was there, when you...// Even in his heart he could not say it, remembering the horror of striking Hal //not Hal, Parallax// down with an arrow. "He always has a plan."

Hal's eyes narrowed, remembering that look the Bat had thrown him, as if he had the right.... His blood ran hot at the thought, and it was a fight not to lash back at his long-time lover--but this was how Ollie got when he was hurting, like a sore-toothed bear, he lashed out at whatever was nearest. "Think you're going to do him any good exhausted, especially if he's being too stupid to take care of himself, too?" 

Olllie flinched, not getting the response he expected, then he sagged into Hal's arms, resting his head on the man's shoulder. "God, Hal, what am I going to do?"

One of those tight-gripping hands slid up his back into his hair, other arm shifting to pull him closer, hand sliding over his back. //That's right, Ollie. I've got you.// "You're going to hold on," Hal wasn't taking no for an answer on that. "We're going to make it, and once we get a handle on some of this, there's someone that knows where they are... and we'll find them." 

Ollie shuddered hard, fighting not to howl at the injustice of it all. In one morning he had lost half his family, and there was nothing he could do about it that seemed to work. Even Hal's strength could only go so far to keeping him going.

Hal's hand rubbed at his neck again, holding him in close, sensing a break-point coming... and he wanted it to fall his way, so his hands said, "I'm here, I know..." in their touch, sliding over him...

Ollie tensed, almost breaking, almost giving in to the need to sob through it, but an image of Roy, his green gold eyes sunken in a junkie's face penetrated the urge. "Sleep... maybe a bite to eat," he mumbled, pulling away.

"Food first, then bed," Hal replied, unwilling to let him go, arms tensing.

"Probably something in here," Ollie muttered, moving toward the kitchen, Hal in tow. He opened the refrigerator, and it was a good thing Hal was so close. Hal felt the muscles under his hand bunch and tense all over again, before Ollie irritably shoved a large pot to one side.

//Damn it...// Hal bit his lip, and stayed close, watching Ollie raid the fridge with sharp, hard moves. 

The archer finally pulled out the makings of sandwiches, and set it all on the counter. 

Easy enough for Hal to put together and it was about time he ate, too. Not like he needed to give the man with him any more reasons to lash out at him. 

Ollie let Hal make the sandwiches as he rummaged for glasses and something to drink, growling when he could not find anything strong, not even wine. He was going to have to tell Connor to cut that crap out.

Hal knew what that noise was about, and sympathized... but the kid had done pretty good. He floated a sandwich over in front of him, waiting. 

Ollie accepted it absently, distracted by trying to remember the last place he had stashed a bottle. "Did you drop by Alan's?"

"Since what point?" Hal asked, then downed a bite of his own food. 

"After..." //after he had to bury his little girl// "Everything." Ollie gave up, poured them both cold water and gave a glass to his friend.

"Yeah. They're a mess... and man, I would not want to be on their bad side right now. That house is JSA central, and they're spoiling for a fight." 

"Was Ted..." Ollie bit it off. "Yeah, I'm sure they're not going to go light, next fight they find."

"That's the truth," Hal agreed with him, drinking deep from the glass. 

"Oracle finally admitted Pretty Bird is officially missing. Heard that while trying to coordinate with Bats. His kid being missing too, we're hoping they both have each other's backs."

"We could hope to be that lucky," Hal replied. "The list of people that are going to line up to beat them if they're okay..." It was a long, long list. That eased some of the tension, though, because it made sense for them both. 

"Yeah." Ollie finished off his sandwich, clearing his mouth with a long drink of the water. "The boys could surprise us all yet."

Hal sighed softly, watching Ollie, worrying, having polished off his own food. He found that... unlikely, but he wanted it to be, for Ollie's sake. 

Ollie grew silent; much as he could hold hope out for the boys having each other's backs, he was far more pessimistic for the woman he loved. She had been alone, taken under her own team's nose...and she was used to having a team these days.

"You need to rest, Ollie," Hal told him, finally, after waiting several moments. 

"Yeah." He mechanically obeyed that, heading for the stairs.

Hal followed him up after dumping the few dishes in the sink with a flick of his ring

Ollie was struggling out of his clothes, his momentum slowing down and letting the exhaustion bleed through, and Hal slid into that space, hands easy as they started to strip him, motions familiar.

"Thanks, Hal," Ollie managed, his hands coming to rest on Hal's shoulders for support.

"Anytime, hotshot," Hal told him, a question in the touch of his hands, the line of his jaw. 

Ollie answered by moving closer. He was in no shape to do more than surrender to Hal, but it would do them both good.

Hal pulled him close, hands strong on him as he kissed his lover deep, then eased him down into the bed, getting rid of his suit swiftly. 

Ollie felt the kiss reaffirming the age old bond between them, that reminder of their narrow escapes and checkered past. He pressed into it, needing to have someone to hold onto, needing to be sure that this other love was truly with him.

"I've got you. Ollie. I'm here," Hal said once he finally broke the kiss, hands stroking over him, holding him close.

"Show me," Ollie pleaded...making a demand he normally would not.

"Easy, Ollie... anything you need..." he kissed him again, hands sliding down those arms--//god, he put more damned muscle on...//--over his wrists, shifting slowly against him. 

Ollie pressed up, his mouth moving over Hal's chest, trying to feel and not think, to blot out the imagery in his mind. It was hard; even now the cruelty of all that was happening made him see a scar in the center of Hal's chest, a scar that simply did not exist, no matter how Ollie's subconscious made it be there.

"Ollie, Ollie... I'm fine, I'm here, stop... it's not there..." When Ollie had broken the kiss to mouth at his chest, he'd known... and the look on his face had confirmed it. "I'm fine, Ollie..." If that didn't help... 

Ollie put both his hands on the chest, stroking it. "Yeah...I know." He closed his eyes. "Not sure I can do this right now, Green Bean...mind's playing tricks all over.

Hal pressed hard against that touch, //god, I missed you...// "You need to stop thinking. I used to be good at making that happen... but it's your call, Ollie..." 

Ollie nuzzled him, and pressed up with all his body...but Hal could feel he was not coming around. "I know, Flyboy...just can't shake...God, if she's dead?!" he sobbed, finally losing it completely, hands turning to fists as he shook.

Hal wrapped tight around him, holding him with everything he had, blanketing him against the bed, wishing for one fleeting moment he still had that connection to heaven to reassure his heart's brother, his lover, that his lady lived... but he was merely mortal again, and all he could do was hold him, tight, run a hand through his hair and talk at him, "wish I could tell you she wasn't, hotshot, god, Ollie, do i ever, but she's smart, and crafty, if there was a way out she'd find it... she's not gonna leave us, she can't..." 

"Dammit, Hal...when we find her...I'm marrying that girl, hell or high water." Ollie had to focus on that. "I've been too damned stupid. I'll make it work, the three of us...and she won't ever have reason to not be at my side."

Hal thought his lover was being ludicrously optimistic. Dinah would never stand for what Ollie was proposing, she didn't have it in her... but if they could make it work, he wasn't about to get in the way. "Okay, Ollie. Okay... and yeah, you were an idiot... but she's forgiven you for stupider shit before... She'll be okay. She's got to..." 

Ollie pushed deeper into Hal's protective arms. "Yeah," he said sleepily.

Hal held him tight for long moments, then started to shift enough to spoon around him tightly.

By the time he settled, the archer was passed out, and hopefully dreamless.

If he didn't rest easy... well, there was a Lantern at his back.


	12. Shared Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Titans react

Robin made it back into the Tower before Gar and Vic moved, and settled on the arm of the couch next to them, watching Vic stroke Gar's fur with his real hand, not looking as though he felt it at all, his true eye reflecting pain so deep that Tim honestly didn't know how to respond. He... wasn't good at comforting people. "Vic," he tried softly, then again, "Vic... Cyborg!" 

The snap of his codename brought Vic's head around. "Yes, Robin?" 

"We've got to tell Raven. And then we've got to put out an all-call. They can't sit on the press much longer, Vic." 

"You're right... Man. I hadn't seen some of the old Titans in years, before..." He trailed off, shaking his head at the revelation during the battle with Light. "and now, seeing everyone again this quickly? It's..." 

"Weird, yes. You put out the call, I'll work on food, supplies, and getting all of the rooms open--there are going to be some of us that don't want to leave again, once they know. I'll be happier if most of us are somewhere safe--this can't be over."

"Damned right it's not over," Vic snapped, his rage at this coming out. 

Robin nodded once, completely agreeing, and Vic slowly pulled himself under control again. He took a few breaths, then sat up straight "Raven first, though. Gar, let's go." The cat leapt off his lap and shifted human, tears in his eyes. "She's gonna take this so hard..." 

"I know, Gar," Vic said softly, and stood up, preparing to head for the stairs--and Raven walked into the room, shuddering slightly. //Probably at the emotional overload,// Robin noted. 

"What did Batman say, Vic? What's going on?" That voice didn't belong to the girlish body she inhabited, Robin knew well. That was the woman who'd fought Trigon for her soul three times, the one that had been a Titan since he was still in grade school stalking Dick from the shadows. 

"Sit down, Raven." 

Her violet eyes narrowed, then she shrugged a shoulder beneath the cape and walked over to sit down at the other end of the couch. "Tell me."

"He came to tell us... That..." his voice shook slightly, "That we've lost Kory, Raven." 

For a moment, the empath was completely still, staring at him with nothing but shock in her eyes. "No." That level of flat denial, from someone who could feel their grief, bothered Robin. 

"Rae..." Vic began, hands coming up to reach out towards her, and the stillness broke, her hands coming up to ward him off as her eyes dropped closed and black power surged up around her again, power with intent, focused desperate looking power that caught them up in it… and long, long moments passed before her hands dropped, shaking, into her lap as the power dropped them, dropped away. "no." 

Her voice was so small. 

"No." 

//Oh, god...// she was getting louder.

"NOO!!" This time, her voice was a scream, and it ripped out of her throat with all the power of an empath's grief--grief that slammed through him, ripped open the hard-built walls around his own grief and pain and terror and everything came out again. He felt himself falling from the arm of the couch--twisted just enough to not crack his skull open--and his knees hit his chest as her agony ripped through him like pure unadulterated power. //DadStephDICKohgoddad.no,Steph,no...Bro, whereareyou?!//

"Ko~reey!" That second scream felt like it went on forever and his shoulders were shaking with sobs as everything about Steph, and Dad, and Dick got wrapped up in the agony of Raven's desperate grief... Caught up in shared pain, he barely noticed Vic's eyes streaming tears, the way Gar had dropped to the floor and curled tight in on himself... he didn't even notice his own sobs. 

"Raven stop!" Vic's voice, thick and choked with pain and begging--and the power cut off like a lightswitch had been flipped. He lay there shaking, watching the scene on the couch while he tried to remember how to do something that wasn't grieve. Like, breathe. And move. Those would both be good. He looked horribly undignified, he just knew it--and the harsh, soft noises in the air were his, he realized, and tried to stop them. 

"Oh. Oh, no. I... I am so sorry... Tim, Gar, are you--"

"I'm okay Rae..." from Gar as he pushed up off the floor, wiping at his face, shaking as he got back up onto the couch and pressed against Vic's side, reaching out for her hand to pull her in as her shoulders started to shake. She shook her head, biting at her lips, arms wrapping tight around herself. "Tim?" 

He pushed himself up to a kneeling position on the floor, and rested his elbows on the arm of the couch, waving one hand at her in 'I'm fine', even though he absolutely wasn't. He needed an hour alone to meditate, then he'd be fine. He swallowed hard, wiping at his face, trying to yank up at least a few of his shattered walls. "I'm... all right. It's okay." Just one of the risks of the job, at least she hadn't grown extra eyes or changed skin (or costume) colors. Those were the bad signs, with Raven. One psionic scream hardly counted. He took a breath, and another, attempting a centering exercise as he did, trying to pull himself under control.

She nodded slowly. "Tell me the rest, Victor." 

"It's... not just Kory. It's the whole Outsiders team--except Roy. He's missing, so's his kid, and we still don't know where Dick is."

"The entire... who could do such a thing?" 

"Multiple... attackers, Raven," Robin answered, barely beginning to feel as though he had a chance of getting his walls back up, the ripped-open wounds screaming for the attention he had no time to give them. He had plans to make, family to guard, things to see to... the wounds didn't matter. He knew what Dick would be doing, in this situation--pulling it together, pulling them together--and while he wasn't that bright, cheerful Robin, would never have Nightwing's casual grace... he had a legacy to live up to. "Only way." 

Beast Boy flicked a glance backwards over his shoulder, then nodded. "Yeah. You're right. Gotta be."

Raven nodded once, hands slowly uncurling to flatten against her thighs. "What do we need to do?" 

"Call in every last Titan, now and ever," Vic replied. "We lost a sister, everyone deserves better than to hear it on the news... and then I have to go to New York." 

"I'm going with you," Gar insisted, jaw set stubbornly. "You're not doing that on your own." Vic looked annoyed for a moment, then just nodded.

"Why do---oh," the realization dawned on Raven a heartbeat later, and she swallowed hard again. "Gar's right. Don't go alone." She waited for his nod, then continued. "That leaves Robin and me with settling everyone in--"

Tim winced. That was the last thing he wanted to be doing, but Robin knew Raven was right, and nodded. "Already mentioned that, Raven," he nodded, still struggling. "We can handle it."

Vic shifted. "I... have to go make the call, guys. I'll be back." He got to his feet, the struggle for composure obvious on his face, and headed towards their comm. room, walking slowly. 

"I'm going to my room," Raven told them. "I need to meditate, and then I'm going to try to find Dick and Roy. I was giving Dick his space, but enough is enough. We need him home." 

Robin fought down that helpless urge to nod, struggling against the tears that still wanted to fall.

*~*~*~*

Vic leaned against the computer, fighting the useless, helpless urge to cry that Raven's scream had ripped open--it wouldn't do any good, he had to keep it together. He was the active team lead, one of the oldest Titans still earth-side, this was his job now... //Dick, damn it. Come home.//

He toggled open a recorder, talking a first draft, and replayed it. After listening, he shook his head and started over, repeating the all-call and the announcement, trying another phrasing, one that worked no better. Warning the Titans not to turn on the news? Like waving red flags at bulls. Best to just leave that be. Finally, he had one he thought would work, one that didn't sound like his voice was shaking, and he triggered the send. 

To every last Titan's communicator went the same message, tagged with the buzzing signal of a priority message, but not the shrill scream of the emergency code. "Calling all Titans, calling all Titans, this is Cyborg. Cold Call, Cold Call, all members, all members. There is no immediate threat, don't risk identities, just come home as soon as you can. Flyers, come heavy." Old codes, legacies of Robin's obsessive planning, trained into every last team in the case of just this emergency. 

*~*~*~*

Across the world, hands of teenagers and twenty-somethings suddenly dove into pockets, purses, backpacks and dresser drawers, some waking from sleep to grab for them with dazed expressions. As they listened, awake or mostly-asleep or somewhere in between, faces went bewildered, then hardened, at the sound of Cyborg's voice under that sort of stress. Cell phone calls and radio waves and instant message windows were flying within moments, teams linking up, plotting where and how to meet, double-checking rendezvous points, and going into motion, everyone suddenly afraid despite the lack of the full emergency signal. Professional men and women slipped away from desks and clocked out of jobs, heading for roofs and alleys and their homes, everything else left behind.

Sitting at a desk in St. Elias, Cassie Sandsmark fidgeted uneasily, chewing at her lip, hearing the soft buzz from her bag--//it's Tuesday, what in Zeus's name?//--and being absolutely unable to answer it. 

Kid Flash skidded to a stop in the middle of a Pennsylvania field and brought his comm. to his mouth without ever bothering to listen to the message. "Cyborg, Kid Flash. I'm in the middle of finding the JSA reservists, 'cause I know what you're calling about. I can't come in 'til I'm done."

"KF. You already..."

"Yeah. I do."

"Cyborg out." 

He pocketed the communicator again, running the list of people he still had to find through his head. He'd left Jesse and Grant for last, and still had a couple people to go before he could get to them. At least now he wouldn't have to tell them, they'd think he was there because of Vic, he could let Vic do it... He shook his head and took off, running to the rest of his list. 

In Smallville, Jonathan Kent looked at the ceiling as something started to buzz, and buzz, and buzz, and went to go get it, staring at the object in his hands curiously. It was unusual for the Titans to try to call Conner on a weekday, but he wished the boy had taken it with him. Maybe it would be the trigger he needed to remember who he could be. 

 

*~*~*~*

Cyborg hung up the phone, having called the last of those that had hung up their capes, and he pressed a hand to his eyes. Leaving carefully worded messages on answering machines had taken almost the last shreds of his control. Soft footsteps caught his attention, and he turned to find Gar standing in the doorway. 

"We'd better go, you know. Before Titans start getting here, or we'll never make it out." His best friend's voice wasn't quite steady, and he could see the blazing grief naked in his eyes--but there was too much to do before they could let themselves grieve. They were eldest, now--until Tempest could surface and if Karen and Mal didn't come back--and the kids were going to need them. 

"I hate to leave Raven and Robin--" He really did, especially after having seen Tim struggling so hard to hold himself together after Raven's mental scream.

"They'll manage, Vic, and you've got to be there for Kory... let's go." 

He sighed, nodded, and headed for the hangar, Gar walking--//not bounding or flying or anything else, just... walking//--at his side. "Raven, Robin, we're gone," he said through the Tower's communications system, and Robin answered. 

"Fly safe." 

That was really all there was to say, and he ignited the engines and took off. 

*~*~*~*

He'd gotten only very basic walls back in place, but with the call already out, he didn't have the time to spend in meditation, Robin knew. He called a restaurant in the City, talking to first the receptionist, then the owner--who broke some startling news to him, namely, that a scream had been heard throughout the city, nearly paralyzing the town for several minutes as people attempted to recover. He bit his tongue on the apology--at least they didn't realize it was Raven--and double-talked his way around explaining why he wanted to put them on retainer for serving up to roughly twenty people for the next two days, with an option for later. He got what he wanted after a few minutes of verbal judo, and hung up with a soft sigh of relief. None of them were going to be capable of cooking to feed everyone, and it was just easier to get it delivered. They had enough options that everyone ought to be fine with the selection, and if not they could always fly into the city and eat on the--//NO! Not on their own, not now, not again. No one goes anywhere alone. Not until we know who did this, and why.//

The realization floored him for a moment, and he scrawled it down to plaster to a monitor where Cyborg would see it as soon as he got back. Better that kind of a decree came from someone higher in the Titans hierarchy than him--and his comm. buzzed. 

"Robin."

"Robin, it's Mia," her voice was shaking, and his mild annoyance over the breach in protocol didn't last past her first words. "Is... is the all-call about the Outsiders?"

"Yes." //Of course. Green Arrow's already told her.//

"Okay. Then I already know, and I'm not coming in. I've gotta stay with GA..." he heard a soft sniffle, and the sound of a hand brushing hard across skin, and nodded despite that she couldn't see. 

"Sure, Speedy. They need you there more than we need you here. I'll mark it down. Thanks for calling in." With much as he wanted to be in Gotham right now, at Bruce's side, it was impossible not to completely understand where his newest teammate was coming from.

"Of course... I--I've gotta go, Robin." Her voice shook again, and he bit hard at his lip.

"Robin out," was all he said, not a tenth of what he wished he could say, and he flicked the comm. off, shaking his head as he made that note and put it into the computers. 

His comm. went off again, "Robin."

"Robin? It's Wonder Girl. I got out of class for a sec, what's going on?"

"Just get out here, Cassie. If you can get her to come, bring Cissie." Leaving his own needs aside, Cissie was one of the only people that was going to be able to keep Cassie herself calm when she found out. //Kon, damnit, pick up the freaking comm. Stop this bullshit and come back home, I we need you!// 

"It's bad, isn't it?"

"Cassie, come in." He ordered, feeling Robin's ice-cold walls drop around him at her pushing, and oh, he welcomed it, welcomed the detachment from everything he had no time to deal with. 

"We'll be there," Zeus's daughter promised, fear and uncertainty all through her voice. 

"Robin out." //Good.//

A thought flickered through his mind about them all being there, about the need everyone was going to have to do something, and he tagged it for later. The rooms all needed thrown open, but since no one was going to go straight down--he hoped--they had a little time for that. He pulled up inventories, checking through what the sudden influx of the full roster was going to do to their supplies--and the monitor bank that continually scanned the news flashed to life, displaying the brilliant colors of a 'breaking news' cut-in, and his hands clenched hard as the colors changed to live footage of New York, of the street-corner at Outsiders HQ, a reporter standing there mic in hand, pointing backwards at the building itself--//oh. No. Not yet, not before people have had time to get on the move, oh, no, No.//

He shut it off, not wanting to hear some witless reporter babble--and the monitors noted the approach of a flyer. Red Star... with Pantha and Baby Wildebeest. He set the 'switchboard' to forward everything to his comm. and headed for the roof, getting there just as Leonid touched down. 

"Robin… what has happened?" It was Red Star that asked, while Pantha looked around, her feline eyes and ears picking up every detail, holding the somewhat matured Baby close.

"It's bad, Leonid, Pantha." His comm. chimed again, and Argent's shaken voice came out of it. "Someone come get me."

"Argent? Robin. I'll see if Red Star will come."

"Da. I will go." 

Pantha glared at him, and he shrugged a shoulder in response. 

"Argent, here, tell him where you are." He handed the comm. to Leonid, who listened for a few moments, nodded, and handed it back to take off. 

Pantha glared at him, now, deprived of Leonid to vent her annoyance on. "So, what made metalhead call us all in?" 

"Pantha, can you--" 

He was interrupted--thankfully--by the approach of another flyer in blue and white, //CM3. That was fast.// The teen with Solomon's wisdom touched down not far from them, his blue eyes troubled. "Robin? What's happened?"

"That's what I want to know, Cap," Pantha snapped, tail lashing, and Baby Wildebeest rumbled unhappily.

"Guys... could you hang on to the questions until some more of us get here. It's bad." 

"If you're avoiding answering, it's got to be, but damn it, kid..." she glared at him over Baby's head, and he heard the door behind them ease open. "Robin, I can't--Marvel Jr. Pantha. Baby. Welcome to the new Tower." 

//She didn't find them,// he realized, and it hit him hard. 

"Raven," Marvel Jr. said with a nod. "Robin's delaying, what's happened?"

"He's right to," she answered. "I don't want to do this a dozen times. Come downstairs. Once everyone's here, I will tell you all." 

"Raven, are you going to be able to handle--" //that kind of intensity of emotion?//

"I'll be fine, Robin." 

Pantha frowned, but nodded once. "All right, Raven. Where's Cyborg, though? He called us in."

"On his way east, with Beast Boy."

"Raven. Speedy's not coming, she's staying with the Arrows. Cassie called in, she's on her way, and Red Star went to get Argent." He saw Raven nod from the corner of his eye as she led the three heroes downstairs, staying on the roof. Someone had to be there.

He spotted another pair coming in out over the ocean, and strained to see who they were. He finally made them out, Hero and Bushido, Hero flying them in. The two dropped onto the roof, Bushido's eyes finding his. "Robin."

"Bushido, Hero. Raven's gathering people downstairs, head for the main lobby and hang a right." 

"Robin, why the all-call?" Hero asked, dark eyes uneasy, looking around. "I don't see anything, haven't heard--" 

"Raven's going to tell everyone, Hero, just hang on. It shouldn't take much longer." 

"All right." The two headed down... and Cassie, carrying Cissie in her arms, swooped down and onto the roof. "Robin, what's--"

"Cassie, please. Raven's gathering people down in the lobby, let's just do this once. Good to see you, Cissie."

"I am going to be in so much trouble, you know," the archer told him, frost in her voice. "Classes weren't out yet." 

"Sorry, Cissie. But... you'll understand. I'm staying up here, head on down." 

The two blondes gave him a look that promised nothing good later, and he shrugged, seeing Leonid coming back, the silver streak that was Argent held against his side. Cassie looked over her shoulder, and waited for them to touch down, greetings and introductions passing between them as they headed downstairs at his urging. 

A portal opened not two feet in front of him, and Bumblebee, Flamebird, and Herald walked out. Karen spoke first, "Robin, what on earth is going on?" 

"Raven's assembling everyone in the main room, Bumblebee, if you could all head that way." 

The displeased look on the faces of the older Titans made his jaw set harder and his spine stiffen, but he asked nicely. "Please."

She nodded once, and urged the rest of her group down the stairs into the Tower.

His comm. chimed again, and he lifted it to his lips, triggering a female voice. "Titans, it's Mirage."

"Mirage, Robin." 

"Robin... I just heard, but Juli's sick, I can't..." 

He winced, "That's why Cyborg called, so that no one would have to--"

"Ah. I understand. I... may be there soon, if there's space for a mother and child?"

"No one's going to turn you away, Mirage." 

"Thank you, Robin." 

He saw the blue and white and red duo of Hawk and Dove flying in just in time to not be surprised when they dropped. "Robin--"

"Raven's downstairs with almost everyone. In the main lobby. We're only doing this once." 

His comm. chimed as the personifications of Order and Chaos gave him oddly identical nasty looks, then headed down as he lifted it to his lips yet again. "Robin." 

"Robin, it's Joto, I just got out of a test. There's something all over the news--"

"Yes. That's what the all-call's about. Do you need a lift in?"

"It would be appreciated, yes."

"I'll find out where Kid Flash is and send him your way. It may be a few."

"All right." 

//They're coming from everywhere,// he thought, the idea bringing a small smile to his lips. They were family, after all. He manipulated the comm., calling for Kid Flash. 

"Yo, Rob. I'm on my way in with Jesse Quick and Damage." 

"All right. You're going to need to swing back and pick up Joto, almost everyone else is here."

"Can do. Is K--" the sudden surge of that hope was like a knife, especially when he had to answer. 

"No." 

"Damnit," he didn't think Bart had intended him to hear that whisper, so he ignored it. "Robin out." 

A few minutes later a wake splashed up across the Bay and Bart ran up onto the land, setting Jesse and Grant gently on their feet, then he spun, waved up at the roof, and took off again, streak of yellow movement that disappeared out through the city again. 

He ran the roster through his head, thinking about who might still come--shoved down thoughts of red and blue and black with all the savagery they deserved--and decided to head downstairs. It wouldn't take Bart long to make the trip out and back one last time, and anyone not here now was either dead, missing, or tangentially connected to them at best. //Is it really only eleven-thirty?// So much had happened that it felt far later, and he stared up at the sun, hanging lazily at the midpoint of the sky in disbelief for long moments, shaking his head.

He walked down into the main room and found a spot against the wall, nodding at the group of heroes milling around, watching Raven watch all of them. Argent was collapsed on one of the couches, CM3 standing protectively next to her. Cassie walked over to him, her eyes snapping blue fire, lasso swinging at her hip, followed by Cissie, Hawk, and Dove. "Robin, would you--"

"Raven's got reason, Cassie, okay?" 

"No, it's not--" 

Yellow-and-black streak of movement resolved into Kid Flash and Joto, and he could see Raven running a mental list. As Joto walked over to Argent and CM3, she took a deep breath and walked out into the center of the room.

*~*~*~*

Raven had welcomed each hero down, being amused by the ones that were disturbed by her new, younger self, and gently encouraged patience as more and more of them arrived... and then the groups that formed, and where they formed, started to pull at her heart. The tight group of Hero, Bushido, Mal, Karen, and Bette, the equally tight knot a bit away from them of Pantha and Baby and Leonid, the duo of Argent and Marvel Jr... Hawk and Dove and Cassie and... //Arrowette? Well done, Robin// on the other side of the room, close together in a worried knot of teenaged emotions, the way that Jesse and Damage walked in and went straight to Argent and CM3, and Joto finally followed them, Bart going straight to the girls and Robin... They'd linked up into the old groups, as if by instinct, and they were scattered around the edges of the room, leaving the center open, echoing... 

...waiting for their missing ones, their lost, she realized why that space existed with a jolt of almost physical pain. Dick and Roy and Donna and Kory. Garth should be on his way, but it was a very long swim from his current home to San Francisco... but he was the only one left to come with Wally in space. The only original, one of the few of the second team, who could still come to them, and her hands shook under the cape as she stepped up into that echoing emptiness. 

"A few of you already know," every head snapped to her, every set of eyes locked on her, "but most of you don't. Batman brought Cyborg, Beast Boy, Robin and I the news that the Outsiders are gone. Nightwing and Arsenal are missing, but Kory, Jenny, Shift, Thunder and Grace are dead. Executed. Vic went to give the official confirmation that it's her body." 

Three full heartbeats of silence, of shocked disbelief to great to contain, and it was Bette that broke the silence first. "Raven, no... that can't be..." weak, useless protest that everyone understood.

"It is," Jesse and Argent said almost as one. "It hit the news at quarter after..." Argent continued, her eyes still numb with the shock. "That's why Red Star had to bring me in, I couldn't fly..." 

"No, no..." that was Cassie, and the shock was giving way to grief in all of them, pain and rage boiling up, surging against her hard-built protections, making her tremble with the strength of it, arms wrapping around herself as one by one, the full magnitude of what she'd said sank in. Karen buried her face against Mal's chest, Bette nearly fell and was caught by a stricken Bushido, Captain Marvel Jr made a soft, wounded noise as Jesse pressed her face against his shoulder and Damage wrapped his arms around Argent. He mouthed something, but she didn't hear it, not over the sound of Cassie starting to weep, Pantha's howl of rage and the shrieking that started from the Baby, who Leonid started trying desperately to calm. 

"Who?" Herald's voice echoed through the room. 

She shook her head, spreading her hands helplessly. "We don't know." 

"Not who, why?" Bushido growled from where he was supporting Bette, and she felt Robin's agreement from where he stood with his hand on Cassie's back as she sobbed against Bart's shoulder. 

"And who's next?" Pantha growled, her eyes blazing with rage. "Might be any of us, if they could take her down and vanish with the guys, with Nightwing.... This doesn't feel right, not with everything else that's going on." 

There was just too much, too many emotions at the flashover point, too many of them ripped between grief and rage... Raven shuddered again, and flung herself out of the room, up into her room and the safety of her shields--someone else could be strong for a little while. 

*~*~*~*

It was Mal and Karen that stepped into the gap, that started trying to comfort people, splitting up to move through them despite the tears that streaked their own faces, attempting to pull them back together, away from the brink. Food arrived and Robin and Damage went to bring it in, and Bart managed to coax people into eating, just to give them something to do as the numbness and fear and grief hit and receded in agonizing waves. 

*~*~*~*

3:20 pm CST/1:20 pm PT

Conner Kent walked up the driveway from school, backpack slung over a shoulder--and he froze at the sight of Aunt and Uncle standing on the porch, waiting. It took everything he had not to start running, and his pace still picked up rapidly until he reached them. "Aunt Martha? Uncle Jon?" 

"Conner, come in and sit down," Jon ordered, and Kon did as he was told, walking into the living room with this sick, numb fear building in his chest. He dropped into a chair--and heard the incessant hum of a priority comm. message. "That thing has been buzzing for the last four hours, and something came over the news that you need to know about."

"I'm not a Titan anymore, Uncle Jon, not after--"

"Hush. The reporters on the television are saying that something happened to one of the superhero teams.. the Outsiders. Now, that name doesn't mean much to me, but one of them did. Starfire. They're saying she's dead." 

//NO!// Images of Kory poured through his mind, golden skin and blazing hair and super-model-gorgeous body and strength and yelling at him about Krypto and her damned flowers and her grace in the air during a game of tag and... His head dropped into his hands, close-cropped fuzz against the tips of his fingers as he shook. The images wouldn't stop, memories of her frank honesty and open delight and that she didn't get pop culture either or why anyone would really want to, how she could make anything look like sex and never, ever did it on purpose, and would be embarrassed if you told her..."H--how?" What could possibly have taken Kory down?

"Some kind of attack, son. They were kind of vague, I guess they have to be..."

Shock and grief morphed into hot rage, and he felt the burning in the back of his eyes, making him squeeze them shut tightly, hands clenching. "I..."

"Hadn't you better see what your friends have to say?" Aunt Martha asked, holding out the comm... 

"I... yeah. I had," he agreed, and turned it on, lifting it close to his mouth. Cyborg's voice, tight with emotion and still so controlled snapped the last thread of his disbelief, making his eyes blaze all over again. "Oh, no. No... Cassie's gotta be such a wreck, and Vic and Gar..."

Suddenly, for the first time in a month, he wanted to be at the Tower, wanted it so badly he could taste it. //But they won't wan--Shut. Up.// He hadn't heard that part of himself since the moment Luthor's voice came across a set of computer speakers. //That's Kory we lost. That's your friend--she deserves better from you than moping here while everyone else is at the Tower hurting, so get off your ass and get it in gear!// 

As if reading his mind, Aunt Martha said, "Then you'd better go, hadn't you?" 

"I... Aunt Martha, I--"

"Your friends are hurting, Conner, they need you."

He bit at his lip, hard enough to make it bleed, and walked up the stairs. He knelt in front of the dresser and pull out an undamaged version of his costume, holding the pile of denim and fabric on his knees, staring at it, touching the 'S' that had been his whole life as if it would burn him. //I... who am I? Am I just Conner, or...// 

The comm still in his hand was warm, the 'T' glowing faintly with the scores of other calls he'd ignored, and he heard Starfire's laughter in his mind as he tagged her and dodged away... 

*~*~*~*

1: 45 PM PT

Robin walked out the door of the Tower, intending to go spend a little time anywhere but Starfire's garden--and a long shadow fell across him, from off to the side. 

"Wonder Boy..." the words were soft, uncertain, and he spun to stare at Kon, who was hovering about a foot off the ground, one foot drawn up as if he wasn't sure he could touch down or not. He struggled to keep his face blanked--and knew he was failing miserably. He hadn't realized how much the weekends with his best friend meant to him until they were suddenly gone. "Kon?!" 

Absolutely pathetic lack of control. 

The look on Kon's face was definitely worth later consideration, the mix of guilt and worry and pain and relief... "It's Star, Rob. Where else could I be... I mean, that is, if I--"

"Oh shut UP! You're a Titan. This is where you belong." //Not being stupid in that damned town, not with everything going to hell...// He reached for Kon's hand, locking his around it hard, "Titans together, Kon. We promised. I didn't forget." //Don't you dare leave me too.//

He managed to keep the wince off his face as Kon squeezed his hand tightly, then slowly let go. "I... shouldn't have. I sure hope the others thin--" Whatever it was that Kon had been going to say, it was cut off as a yellow blur slammed into him, knocked him to the ground and hugged him hard, yelling, "KON! Konyou'reokayyou'reback!" 

//Thank you, Bart,// Tim thought to himself as Bart's shriek brought Cassie running too, the Amazon girl pulling them both to their feet so she could hug Kon hard, holding him savagely tight. "Don't you ever leave us again," she hissed at him, smacking him across the back of the head, then pulled him close again. "Not because of some stupid thing that's not your fault. So stupid, Kon." 

"I, Cassie I--"

"Shut up, Kon." 

Kon mimed zipping his lips, blue eyes still uneasy--and Raven walked out the door. "Superboy. You heard?"

"I heard, Raven, and I'm here." Tim wondered if he was the only one that heard the quiver in Kon's voice, the thread of 'I'm not sure I belong, though...'

"Good. Welcome home." That seemed to be all the empath had to say as she turned to go back inside. "Your room's still a mess. Have fun with that." 

Kon winced, Bart's lips quirked up as if he was trying to laugh, and Cassie smiled, while Tim felt one of the walls around his heart shift as the security of having Kon at his back again registered. 

Too many of them were missing, too many more were gone... but they were the Titans. The survivors, and as Cissie ran out of the Tower in her simple jeans and T-shirt to join the pile of people hugging and yelling at Kon, he prayed desperately that his brother was alive out there, that they could bring him home.


	13. Failing Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinah's induction into the 'family' continues

The door opening found Black Canary dressed in jeans and a turtleneck sweater. She looked up to see Rose, and noted the changes in the girl since the last time she had seen Lian's babysitter.

"Good morning, Miss Lance," Rose said politely. "I'm sure you're hungry," she added, staying in the doorway. "Lian's not up yet, but she will be soon." The blonde moved toward the door, accepting the fact she had to accept the idea of actually going out into the house now.

"Morning, Rose. Please, call me Dinah," she said firmly. She refused to be 'Miss Lance' to anyone.

"Dinah." Rose liked the fact that the woman did not seem particularly afraid or forced. She led the blonde to the kitchen, and then smiled more broadly when Dinah immediately set about preparing a meal for them. "So you cook too?"

"Only because I don't think your father would appreciate me calling for take out," She said in an even voice. "But yes, I can cook, and occasionally like to." She kept memories of cooking for Ollie out of her face, and her tone from being bitter. "Can you cook?" If she were here to teach Rose, she might as well dive right in.

"Some." Rose crinkled her nose in dismay as Dinah indicated she should join her.

"Cooking is a very important skill…the simple pleasure of a well prepared meal can go a long way to helping you find balance after a particularly hard mission," Dinah began. She had given her word to Slade, and if it wounded her soul to share an activity she had reserved for Ollie with Rose, she would swallow her pride and do it. The bitter medicine of that truth was sweetened and made worse as the sound of tiny feet hit her ears.

"Aunt Dinah!" Lian's piping voice preceded the full body launch of a child against the blonde. Dinah crouched to catch her, and if her hug was a little more fierce than normal, Lian barely noticed. 

"I missed you, Lian." The woman sat her goddaughter on the counter, to turn her attention back to breakfast. "So I've come to help take care of you."

Rose nodded inwardly; that was a response her father would have been looking for. Best to establish the why here at the beginning, with the curious child, Rose knew. Lian had grown up steeped in good guys and bad guys, and likely knew just how dedicated to the hero life her 'aunt' was.

"So we're going to really be a family? Daddy and me and you, with Uncle Dick and Rose and her daddy?" Lian asked, her eyes going from the woman she trusted completely to the girl she had not been as sure of, despite Daddy telling her it was okay to like Rose again.

Dinah choked down a wave of helpless anger, nodding. "Yes, baby. I'm going to stay with you all, and try to be the bestest aunt to you."

"That takes a big worry off my mind," Roy's voice called. Any other person might have dismissed any flicker in his voice as morning sleepiness, but Dick and Dinah both could hear the strained emotion underlying the forced casual remark. Had Lian not been present, if Dick weren't so close, there was no doubt he would have been there, holding onto her and making sure she was safe. Dinah glanced up to see the two young men in casual clothing walking in. As usual, Roy had on tight jeans and a shirt that stretched as tight across his chest, while Dick wore softer, more relaxed clothing. Dinah's eyes flickered from Roy's neck, with its imprint of collar marks, to the faint bruise pattern on his cheek, to Dick's entirely too smug look.

Dick saw the tightening of her hand on the knife, the clench of her jaw the same way Rose noticed Dinah's shift in body language. The two men had paused in the hallway, while Roy adapted to the sound of his mother/sister/friend being in there. The redhead had clutched hard at Dick's arm, his eyes reflecting the agony of knowing Slade was holding yet another of his family. Dick had merely smiled softly to his pet, Holding him close for a long moment to reassure him, and Roy had calmed. Regardless of the circumstances, if Dick was right, and he had to be, then Dinah's presence here meant she was safe from the plans by the Society.

"Roy." She nodded briefly to him, not trusting herself to touch him, not wanting to know what could have broken him from the proud man she held in her heart to what she had seen on the monitor. She then remembered Lian's presence, and nodded in Dick's direction.

"Dinah's teaching me to cook, Dick," Rose purred, her features managing to be innocent when her body language screamed flirtation.

"I'm sure it's one of a few skills she can pass on to you," Dick drawled, sitting at the breakfast bar and patting his lap for Lian to join him. The small girl glared at him fiercely, as Dinah set the knife down harder than necessary. 

"Rose, I'm sure you can get everything on to plates from here," Dinah said tightly. "I'll be in my room; I'm not so hungry right now." She had to walk away, had to keep from starting a fight in front of her baby, in front of her student, in front of Roy. Rose watched her go, much as Roy did, but Lian suited action to emotions, jumping down and running over to kick Dick in his shin.

"You be nice to Aunt Dinah, or I won't share my toys with you anymore!" Lian snapped, before wiggling up into her father's lap. Rose chuckled softly at the stove, making five plates. She knew her father was absent this morning, but she would carry a plate to Dinah and try to win her over that way.

"Dick, don't do that, please," Roy asked, keeping his voice soft. Dick looked at his pet, at the defiant little girl in his arms and shrugged lazily. He could see the urge to defend Dinah strongly in Roy's every fiber, but the fact he was holding his tongue to just that plea made Dick take a small amount of pity on him.

"Sure." Dick accepted his plate, planning on hashing things out with Dinah in private later. He easily followed the logic of why there was a woman in the house now, but he would have preferred someone other than the woman who had come between him and his first real girlfriend.

`~`~`~`~`

"You have to ignore Dick," Rose said, entering the bedroom without knocking, and carrying her plate plus Dinah's on a tray. She had left the men and Lian in the kitchen to find her new teacher. "He's still riding high on being Daddy's heir." Rose sounded completely unconcerned about this; she knew, no matter what, she was her Daddy's Little Girl. She did note just how much it bothered Dinah to hear of Dick's new status.

"Forgive me, Rose, but I prefer not to discuss him," Dinah said, as politely as she could manage.

"Tell me why. Make me understand how you are able to mask the hatred I know you have for Daddy, but Dick gets under your skin," Rose pressed, handing her a plate before sitting down with her own on the other end of the bed. Dinah half-heartedly took a bite, and sighed.

"You know, there was a time when I did not hate your father." She looked amused at that concept. "But that's not what you asked," she added, before Rose could dig further into that. "I know, from things Robin and Batgirl have shared, that you love your father, absolutely. And he…loves you the same." Dinah waited until the girl nodded. "I have that same love for Roy. I have since he was around your age. And I can see that what Dick has chosen…. It's changed my Roy. Add to that the fact he's been hurting my best friend for years now, and it's harder. So forgive me if I'm not very receptive to your 'brother' right now."

"Thank you for being honest with me, Dinah." Rose truly meant it too, as she ate the breakfast she had helped prepare. 

"I'm here to teach you, your father says. A teacher cannot half-step and lie to a student and do right by them," Dinah told her. "You are old enough to know I'm here by coercion; you admitted that in your comment about me hating Slade. But I will do as I have been told, because I gave my word. And like your father, that means something to me."

"Gotcha." Rose smiled, and was pleased when Dinah returned it, albeit a shade more sadly.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah let Rose help cinch the sling as tight as they could get it, so she kept her broken arm close to her body. The day had been spent quietly, with Rose guiding Dinah through the house, and both of them spending time with Lian. The woman was by no means relaxed, and Rose had finally suggested they go exercise while Lian napped with her daddy.

"Daddy says you heal quick," Rose said with a smile at Dinah's annoyed glance at the arm.

"Usually. Comes from being meta, supposedly." She had removed the heavy turtleneck, and Rose was counting the bruises with a growing respect for the woman.

"Who'd you tangle with last?" Rose finally blurted, curiosity overcoming her.

Dinah laughed, bitterly. "Your father had a contract to retrieve something from my team." She shook her head as Rose's eye went wide. "And yes, I know I'm lucky to have walked away."

"I'd agree to that," Dick said, lolling in with languid ease. "I thought it would only be fair to Rose to show her what caliber of a teacher Slade had found for her, and came to offer to spar." He said it with such complete innocence that Dinah would have been hard pressed to refuse, even had her pride allowed it.

"That suits me just fine, Grayson." Dinah moved more to the center of the mat, keeping her weight balanced forward of her center, to compensate for the arm. Dick strolled out so casually, stripping his shirt off one handed and tossing it to Rose.

He threw the first blow, a simple one just to warm up. She caught and deflected it on her good hand, then moved inside his reach to get a rib shot. The wiry fighter danced out of the blow, and landed one with ease over the top of her strike. They could feel each other's speed and reach, having each tested the waters now. Then Dick opened up, and let Dinah know how dangerous the waters really were.

The acrobat let his body dance through, under, and into the blows and dodges Dinah used against him. He had always been an excellent fighter. Dinah had always enjoyed watching him in action, when Babs would play the hundreds of scenes she had saved. But this, with his inhuman speed and precise control rattled her nerves. She felt her body reaching for Shiva's training, pulling her into the flow of muscle memory and instinct. She did not understand how Dick had gotten so good, so close to Slade…

Her eyes narrowed on that thought, just as Dick evaded yet another kick she knew damn well she had not choreographed. She was not up against Nightwing; this creature in front of her was more a part of Deathstroke than Rose, possibly. A subtle fear broke in her soul, to see the perfect heir of Batman transmuted into this…feline killing machine. And that fear opened the doors to all that Shiva had taught her so far.

Rose watched the sparring, so heavily in Dick's favor, suddenly shift. Dinah simply was not there where he expected her to be; Rose could not even predict the next move from the blonde. The small woman tagged Dick twice in a row, with a speed that was peak human, and disregarded the effort Dick made to block. He found himself having to think, to plan the moves as she met him on a level he had never suspected was hers. 

As the fight continued, and Dick slowly regained his edge, Rose knew she had seen the new style before. When her shoulder began to ache, with a phantom piercing pain, her single eye went wide.

`~`~`~`~`

Slade was tidying up his latest fulfilled contract when the sparring began. He had glanced at it, and then kept it in the corner of his eye. As the fight shifted, the man brought his attention fully to bear on the sight before him. There was no doubt that Canary was no longer holding back, as passion blazed from her eyes even across the video feed. But it was her particular style that made him growl, realizing he had an unforeseen complication on his hands.

He had just discovered the identity of Shiva's rumored student. And right now, she was making Dick prove his ability to respond to a style that their time sense just did not predict very well.

`~`~`~`~`

Dick realized that the blonde fighting him would not stop until he put her down, and that was going to require more force than he suspected Slade wanted used at this time. The most direct path was now the only one he could use, to stop this fight and analyze just where he had miscalculated. He stepped into her kick, catching her leg, and then throwing her solidly to the floor, holding the leg tight, and dropping over her. He had the leverage, but she still struggled.

"See, Dick. Daddy chose quite well for me," Rose said in a purr. "Batgirl?"

As Rose's words clicked, Dick saw his baby brother, remembered a particular set of moves Tim had used, ones Dinah had displayed.

"No, Shiva," he said, springing away. He made no move to help her up, but he also did not seem to radiate as much malice. 

"Whoa." Rose, her eye lit in glittering appreciation, bounded over to help the woman up immediately. 

"Dick?" Dinah said, having regained her breath from the painful fall. Their gazes met, and the woman tried to not bite her tongue as her eyes screamed for him not to hurt Roy any further than she already suspected.

"I think we can work together," he acknowledged, his own eyes hooded. Roy was too newly won for him to fully accept the threat Dinah presented. He left the gym, feeling the sharp daggers from her eyes his way.

`~`~`~`~`

The woman eased down in the hot water of her bathtub, reviewing the day in her head. So far, she was holding herself together fairly well, she thought. She wanted to hurt Dick still, but that was on her boy's behalf. Rose was an engaging child, who sometimes managed to make Dinah forget who her father was. The blonde pinched at the bridge of her nose, making sure to keep her cast out of the water as she shifted to ease the bone weariness she felt. She had not felt this tired, this drained since Ollie….

She fiercely shook her head. She had no right thinking of the heroic man right now, not when she had sold her soul to the devil. Granted, she had no clear thought on how she could have rescued Lian, gotten Roy free, without getting someone hurt or even killed. It was not her own death she feared, but Roy's. The boy had suffered too much in too short a lifetime. And god forbid someone hurt Lian.

She closed her eyes, letting the scent of the lavender bubbles work some magic. She had decided if she was going to be a prisoner, she might as well use what had been given to her. 

"You were holding out on me." Slade's voice, right there in the small confines of the bathroom, startled her out of the limited relaxation she had reached. She glared at him fiercely, trying not to flush.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to relax here, and your presence is in the way of that," she said icily. "You want to discuss what I may or may not be holding out, you wait until I am out of my bath!" Her fierce attitude, the complete lack of fear she exuded toward him almost made him smile, almost made him grant her privacy. 

Until he remembered Light's abject fear of her and her League.

"My home, my rules," he growled. He watched her move quickly, the bubbles clinging in almost peek-a-boo fashion, to grab the curtain and jerk it across. He did catch the wince she made at the effort to close her fingertips on the material, from using the broken arm. "Why didn't you use your new style that day with the League? Or the other night, with your team?" he asked her. "Afraid of their opinions of you being Shiva's apprentice?"

"I'm not her 'apprentice'; I'm her student." Dinah's voice was resigned now, giving into the necessity of this conversation. "And no, I just haven't had time to adapt it to a team based effort."

"You're lying. Something you don't do well." His voice was edged. "Something you need to stop whenever you speak to me."

"Slade, do you really have to keep power tripping with me? It never got the Bat or Green Lantern anywhere with me." She started scrubbing at her skin with the loofah, just to have something to focus on rather than his radiating menace. He watched the silhouette for a long moment, having to rein in his temper over her lies; all of them back to what they had done to Light.

"Tell me how long you have been studying Shiva's art, how long you have been in touch with her, and how long until she expects contact with you again," he ordered brusquely.

"Why? So you can lord it over me that I am using the tools of a killer? An assassin with a face-to-face body count possibly equal to your own? Or just because I actually had one secret your stalking did not turn up?" Dinah heard him shift, very subtly, and realized that she was baiting an angry bull. It made her rein her temper in, made her stop and think about the implications for her and for Slade that Shiva was personally interested in her. "We use correspondence, Slade. I've been working under her tutelage since that Senator got put away."

"Ahh yes; that was a Prey mission that ended that little debacle." He sounded calmer, less likely to drag her out of her cooling water. "Cheshire," he muttered, almost too softly for her to hear.

"Yes. She killed the Sensei, set up an elaborate ploy to kill three birds with one stone." Dinah could not help the savage bitterness in her voice. "Instead, I got to shove her out of a helicopter, and Shiva convinced me to continue in her style." This time she saw the man fully move, from the lean against the vanity to a fully standing position. 

"You have an emergency contact number for her," he pressed, his tone ominous. "I can believe you using correspondence, as you are normally under strict surveillance from the Oracle, which would have meant no vocal contact. But Shiva is…possessive of things she marks." He paused, letting that implication settle in. "I want that number."

"I don't…"

"Dinah, if you lie to me, I won't promise you that you'll be conscious tomorrow." His voice was low, very calm, and deadly serious.

"I don't have the ability to just give it to you," Dinah said carefully. "It's in my apartment, carefully hidden, and the only other location was in my phone." She cringed as the man shifted again.

"Then give me the address. You truly do not want to bring her down on this household," he warned.

"Fine." Personally, Dinah would have loved to see her teacher fight this man, but it would be uneven, with Dick and Rose to watch over the man in any encounter. She still kept her voice flat and miserable sounding as she rattled off the address. The only part she neglected to tell him was that Oracle would have immediately found Shiva once it was clear she was missing. The deadly woman was probably already making inquiries, to find out who was stupid enough to kidnap her student.

At least that was Dinah's slim hope in the matter as Slade left her alone.


	14. Nightmares and Panckes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick isn't as untouched as he might wish he was

Dick sat bolt upright, panting, shaking, rubbing at his eyes, feeling his pulse hammering against his ribs, fighting the urge to scream--thankful for the years of training that had kept him silent in his sleep. He'd always been plagued by nightmares... nightmares of his parents deaths, of his failures, of Bruce's anger and disappointment--and now, they had a new Star. Starfire. Memories of her haunted his nights, now, flying with her, laughing with her, the playful reckless grace she'd always had all ran together into the memory of Slade's walk towards her unconscious body as he ordered him out of the room with Roy. Her voice echoed in his head now, asking him how he could do this to her...

Five nights of her voice and her eyes and all of his memories of her had run his resources low, making him snappish and uneasy--he'd taken some of that out on Dinah, he knew. It was worst when he spent the night curled against Roy's body--the redhead slept deeply when he knew he was safe, and rarely woke when he started to dream, though he was moving uneasily now, rolling onto his back to look at him. Slade slept like a cat, and when he spent the night beside the older man, Slade would pull him out of the nightmares before they could fully start and stay with him in easy silence until he stopped shaking and could sleep again.

"Dick?" low, sleepy voice, and he just stroked a hand down Roy's arm, not trusting his voice for long moments. 

"Go back to sleep, my own. I'm all right." 

"Nightmare?" 

//You know me too well.// "Yeah. The usual... I'm gonna hit the gym, go back to sleep..." he twisted to lean down and kiss him gently. He couldn't talk to Roy about this one--Roy was still enraged with him over the Outsiders, and he couldn't blame him. With Slade gone on something--and damn it, the man was going to tell him what the hell he was planning, he couldn't help if he didn't know the score!--there was no-one he could go to... so he'd work the memories out of his mind. He'd probably wind up passing out on the mats, but that was okay.

"Y'sure, flyboy?" 

"Yeah... just sleep, my own, everything's fine." 

"'kay." God, what the sound of Roy's voice like that did to him, low and sweet and sleep-rough and still trusting him... It was almost enough... but he still remembered her voice like that, too. He slipped out of the bed, smiling as Roy settled into his spot like a cat, and pulled on shorts and a T-shirt to head downstairs. //God, only midnight...//

*~*~*~

Several hours later, a restless young woman slipped out of her bed and went to wander the house, trying to quiet her thoughts. Noise in the training room caught her attention, and she went to see what was going on. She pushed the door open noiselessly, and stilled in it. 

It was impossible how to tell how long he'd been at this, but the man on the mats in the middle of a tumbling routine--every motion of which screamed pain and sorrow and rage--was absolutely soaked with sweat, shirt thrown over a weight bench, shorts sticking to his legs, hair dripping with it... It had obviously been quite a while, and he didn't look as though he was anywhere near stopping, even though his muscles shook as he landed a flip and took off into another pass. 

The person in the doorway watched, a single eye interested in what drove such frenzy, but also wrapped up in just reading every motion, every nuance of the muscles carrying him through the routine.

The pain and the exhaustion eventually took their toll and he missed a landing, ankle twisting, harsh oath ripped from his lungs as he fell and wrapped a hand hard around it, not even noticing the observer, lost in the demons tormenting him. 

"You should ice that," came the soft, logical words from his observer. Rose stepped fully into the room, wearing a short kimono style robe that barely came to mid thigh, her hair hanging free and partially hiding the patch she wore.

"Go away, Rose," low growl that sounded very much like her father, not looking up.

"No." Her simple refusal lsoated over his ears, just before she came to look at the ankle, kneeling in front of him. "I want to help you."

"It's just an ankle. The serum... will fix it before morning," words said around harsh, quick breaths.

She reached out, touching his hand lightly. "Not about that." It was rare to see her solemn, more rare for her to touch him and not look for it to lead to an innuendo.

His head snapped around to look at her, blue eyes dark with more than physical pain, and he shook his head. "You can't, Rose."

She cocked her head to one side, frowning. "Because you won't let me? Or because I can't possibly understand?" She drew her hand back. "I'm not heartless, you know. I see you're hurting."

"Both... and you're my student. That's not how this works." Then he caught her hand. "I... know you're not, Rose. That's not it."

She folded her smaller hand around his. "I just want you okay, Dick... you're family now."

He shuddered, hearing another woman say that, the accented voice in his memories so warm and sweet--he shoved his free hand against his eyes, a noise in his throat that he refused to admit was a sob, breathing gone absolutely erratic in defiance of every bit of training he'd ever had.

The girl, whose life had been shattered too many times in recent years, flowed into his space, kneeling up so that she was the right level for his head. Her arms were deceptively strong as she tried to pull him close, offering solace, a point to cling to in the wake of his demons.

He struggled against her for a minute, pride and boundaries warring against everything inside him--and then the strength of her grip and the way she held him snapped something deep in him and he fell against her, silent, racking gasps for air passing for sobs as hot tears soaked the silk, collapsed against her chest. 

She kept one arm low around his shoulders, then used her free hand to stroke his hair, leaning her face into his hair and closing her eye. "I've got you, Dick." She kept her voice low and soft. "Just hold on to me."

At the way her voice blended with the one in his head that he would never, ever hear again, he started to hyperventilate, and just clung to her as his lungs worked too-hard too-fast and his hands locked around her arms hard, probably leaving bruises in their wake as he lost control again. 

"Dick, shh," Rose urged, swaying a bit. "You're safe here. We're going to take care of you," she promised. "Just hold on, and it will be alright." She was very worried, half hoping Daddy was home and watching, in case she needed help with Dick. 

He shook his head against her shoulder, breathing ramping up another notch into the double-time pants of a trauma victim, the enhanced strength and her gentleness blending so utterly with the memories that tortured him that it took everything he had not to scream. 

Daddy was watching, hands fisted hard against his thighs, knowing he could not go to his boy, not this time. Not for this. 

Rose laced her fingers into Dick's hair, pulling his head back from her shoulder. Regret chased through her eye a moment before her other hand slapped across his cheek, in hopes of breaking the pattern, of bringing him back. "Dick, please, calm down!" She did not have the command voice, but there was a deep urgency, a need to reach him on a deeper level, to pull him out of it.

The shock of that bruising slap stopped the breath in his lungs, not even reacting to the hand fisted in his hair, staring at (through) her, tears still pouring down his cheeks, smeared across his face, but the urgency pulled him together enough to gasp, "S-sorry, Rose. I--I'm sorry..." 

"No, Dick...I understand." Her hand relaxed in his hair to stroke it gently. "Do you want to talk? I can listen pretty good sometimes."

"I... No. Yes..." he looked away from the compassion in her eyes and said, so, so faintly, "I killed her." Arms and spine and shoulders shuddered as he said it aloud. None of the defiant pride that claimed his kill of Blockbuster in that lost, aching voice. 

The teen slipped around him, kneeling behind the stressed man to drape her arms around him, pressed close for comfort, but where he did not have to 'see' her. She suspected it would help him keep talking about so sensitive a subject. "Tell me, Dick. Let me share it the burden with you. I know you...loved her."

"I'd have married her, once... She was... god, she was fire, and passion, and so amazing... and I gave her vulnerabilities over to your father so he could execute her." The sheer amount of blazing self-hate in his voice was astounding. "I killed her as surely as if I'd pulled the trigger myself. Without what I gave him, Star would have made it a FIGHT. She might've bought them enough time..." 

"Enough time for Daddy to have done it himself?" she asked softly. "Your Roy would be dead. You, he would have killed for mercy, I think." Her voice was gentle, but the logic of her words was inescapable. "Because the contract had to be fulfilled, and a messy fight would have broken your spirit. This was clean."

He shook in her arms. "I know. God, I know. I know there was no way I could save her, not with that contract, not when he finally had a reason to take her down... and I could save Roy--Slade likes him, after all--so I did, I gave her up... God, Rose, what am I that I know I'd do it again?"

"Human." He felt her arms tighten around him, holding him tighter. "Humane." She sighed softly past his ear. "Dick, it's going to be...okay. It hurts like hell, always will, to be honest. But you have to look at what the choice was. Lose all, including your life, or keep one, and possibly matter more than you ever have in the past." She pressed her cheek to the side of his head. "I'll always be here for you, when the pain gets so bad."

He bit at his lips, first reaction held behind his teeth, and slowly nodded. "It was already too late for me to go back," he told himself again, pressed back against her body, tipping his head away to turn and look at her, demons still in his eyes. "I... don't know why you think I'll matter more now than I did as the Titans leader, as the hero I used to be... but you're right about one thing--at least I've still got him, and I'm alive... better than the alternative. 

Rose smiled slowly at him. "Dick, with Daddy, you can do so much you never were allowed before! When someone needs to go down, you get to make sure they stay down." 

He tilted his head thoughtfully, reaching up to wipe away the tears, turning that phrasing over in his mind. "You know, Rose... you're right. I do... and wishes are for fools and children. I'm neither. ...Thank you." The self-loathing and pain were slowly receding from his eyes, replaced with the kind of resolve she would normally see on Renegade's cold features. "The lesser of two evils may still be evil.. but at least I get to live with this one." 

"Oh, I'm usually right. You macho types just forget to listen to me," she said, using her lightest voice before giggling softly at him. She hoped it would help him break his mood fully, not wanting him to encounter Daddy in the depressive state he had been.

He shook his head, managing to smile at her--just a little. "That's what you think, at least." 

The impulsive girl moved around once more, throwing her arms fully around his neck as she pressed into a hug against him. "I'm glad you picked us," she said with quiet, desperate urgency.

He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, despite being startled, and laughed--bitter laughter, but honest. "I... didn't like the other choices. I don't like the other choices... and... I am, too. I... like being here." By this point, he was smiling more broadly, nodding once. He truly did. Rose was whip-smart and a delight to teach, Slade was--he fought off the blush--and with Roy and Lian safely beside him, he had everything he could possibly expect anymore. 

Rose managed to slip down to be more sheltered in his arms, pressing her ear to his chest. "Family," she whispered, not quite in a normal voice. "Family beats all, hold the family tight."

He held her tight, letting her have the shelter she seemed to need, and stroked a hand down her pale, pale hair. "You're right, Rose--and you and Slade and Roy--and Lian--are my family now."

She shivered, the hair rising on her arms. "Yeah, Dick. I know." She shook her head, coming away from whatever it was she had seen.

"Rose... what did you see?" The realization hit him suddenly, what that change in her voice had to mean, and it was pure and utter stupidity to ignore a vision, rather or not she wanted to talk about it.

Rose smiled sweetly at him. "Nothing, Dick...nothing important."

"Rose..." 

She leaned up to kiss him, moving from concerned friend to flirty ingénue with ease.

He leaned backwards with all of the serum's speed, seeing the move in the change of her shoulders, and shook his head at her, hand coming up to block her, shaking his head at her once he had her stopped, hand resting over her heart. "No. Good reaction, great way of distracting someone--god knows I've used it--but no, and you know precisely why. What did you see?" In an odd way, he was proud of her attempt at distraction.

She pouted, making it as seductive as she thought he'd let her get away with. "Us... five in Daddy's colors...battlefield." She slipped back toward the vision, as the details floated in the back of her mind.

Dick's eyes went wide at that. "Five of us... Canary? Actively with us?" he shook his head. "I can't believe that one. Talk about a stretch... can you get anything else? Maybe who it is?"

She closed her eye, then shook her head. "No. Just a sense there are five of us, that something happens, and we are at the key move of the battle."

He flashed a smile at her, "Well, where else would we be?" All arrogant confidence and strength in his eyes. 

She cocked her head to one side, then nodded. "So, it's the middle of the night; I think you owe me... pancakes."

"...pancakes?" He chuckled softly. "Sure, Rose. Come on, I'll try not to burn the house down. Dinah's not the only one that can cook."

She rose gracefully, spinning around one full time for him, then sashayed toward the door before peeking over her shoulder. "Come on!"

He followed her, stopping long enough to pick his shirt up... and drop it again. "I'm going to go get a shirt, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

"Believe me, the shirt would be wasted," she flirted, eyeing him again.

Dick just smiled at her, shaking his head in amusement. He was going to regret sheltering Roy by making that offer, he just knew it. "While that's nice to know, I don't care to get hit by several-hundred degree grease, thanks." 

"Hmm, I'd kiss it and make it all better," she offered, that single eye dancing.

"..You're something else, Rose," he said with a shake of his head, smiling at her as he forced himself not to limp on the still-healing ankle. 

"Yeah, but what?" From her tone, it was not completely clear she was joking.

"You're asking a guy? Like I understand any woman?" He, on the other hand, was very definitely teasing. 

"This is very true." She waggled her eyebrows at him as she paused to look back at him again. "I think you've shown where your real inclinations lay."

"I'd think you'd have noticed that by now, yes," Dick agreed willingly, waiting for her to get out of the doorway. 

"Too bad for me," she said, 'straightening' her short robe.

"You're going to be very, very dangerous to some poor boy's sanity one of these days," he said instead of replying to that comment. 

"No, that would be Daddy's job," she added, walking toward the kitchen.

"...yeah, true.." He laughed and went to get a shirt, nightmares and memories under control again, forced away by the open love of his student/sister. 

While Dick was on the other end of the house, Slade found his daughter, intercepting her on the way to the kitchen. "Kitten," his voice soft as he walked up behind her. 

"Daddy!" she squealed, always happy to see him. She turned and smiled fully for him, his perfect blend of malice, skill, and innocence.

He smiled back at her. "Well done, Kitten. very well done." 

She tipped her head to him, cheeks flushing at his praise. "How could I do less, Daddy, for him? For you?"

He reached out to pull her close. "True. Good girl. ...enjoying teasing my boy, kitten?" He was entirely amused by the byplay between them. It was an excellent way for his daughter to stretch her wings. 

"Hmm, keeps him on his toes," she evaded coyly.

"True, it does... and amuses you, which is also valuable. Go on. I'll tell Ms. Lance to let you sleep this morning." 

She nodded, continuing on her way to the kitchen. She considered the night well spent, if it meant Dick was on a more even keel and her Daddy was pleased with her.

Pancakes at three am were a fairly familiar thing for Dick, though sharing them with Rose was definitely new--and fun, he had to admit as she leaned against the counter talking to him as he cooked.


	15. Picking Up Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heroes begin to regroup

The wait at the beach was not too long; when Oracle had set up the various back up protocols she thought might be needed one day, each member she contacted had agreed to obey them at the top of their priorities. 

As the man rose from the water, it was as if Oracle was looking back through one of the photo albums Alfred kept under lock and key, of that first year when the hero community was first banding together. A lump formed in her throat; seeing Aquaman with the short hair, his classic colors and no beard reminded her sharply that Dinah had been at his side in many of those pictures she remembered. Those days had been far simpler, when Dick (and that was another hard lump, but more fear) had worn the short pants and they had all been filled with purpose and optimism.

The hard line of Aquaman's face as he saw the woman in the wheelchair, a vast array of water tight cases around her, reminds her sharply that they have come a very long, far way from that. She wondered briefly if he was one of the ones who knew all that was done, that the League had polluted itself so far back.

"Oracle?" His voice was gruff as she remembered from infrequent Justice League work.

"In the flesh." She held her hand out to him, seeing the emergence of a ship off the coast. He took her hand, appraising her sharply.

"Not what I expected," he told her.

"Too crippled?" she retorted, trying to rein in her tongue a moment too late.

"Mature," he riposted. "I had been led to believe that Batman had a fondness for younger apprentices." Now he smiled, with the indulgence of having made her blush in embarrassment. 

"I was when I started," she said, drawing her hands up to make a faux mask, her red hair tucked back. She knew without Alfred's sage advice in her ear, that right now, secrets would only get in the way, and sharing them improved chances of getting through this.

"Ahh…a piece of the puzzle falls into place." He bowed his head in respect, before more men emerged from the water. They saw to loading the boxes out to the waiting vessel, while Aquaman leaned down. Without making an issue of it, he scooped her up, leaving the chair for one of his men to wrestle.

"Normally I have a hissy about this," she told him.

"Normally, the world is not falling down around our ears," he acknowledged. 

`~`~`~`~`

Batman was in the middle of a conference call with Mr. Terrific about the results of the investigation when Alfred escorted Jason Blood back down into the Cave. Jason left him to his work, finding a secluded portion of the Cave to begin preparing for this casting. Etrigan was still rumbling angrily about the lack of answers in the back of his mind--which was no fit state to be in while trying a delicate scrying. He took some time to calm the demon within, and more time yet to build the framework of the spell, carefully setting up the necessary components. By the time he was ready to begin, there was a silent shadow with watchful eyes leaning against one stalagmite. 

"I will attempt Nightwing first," Jason told him. "The connection is... somewhat stronger." He held the gloves above a burning brazier and began the casting, throwing all of his will into finding the boy that held so much of his student's heart, who had so competently led the JLA on their mission to the past, sending his search out. He let go of the gauntlets and they flashed into nothingness to give the spell its target—

\--and his body jolted as his spell was forcefully stopped by powerful protections, his eyes snapping open at the shock. Those wards approached the most powerful he could create--who could have them? He flung the spell against them, but found himself blocked, unable to break them--or even damage them. The spell broke under the strain, and he shook his head, hands dropping to his knees. 

"Jason?" There was worry in that quiet question, and grief. 

"...Someone blocks me, Bruce. Someone powerful is assisting in keeping Dick hidden from you." He rose and broke the casting. 

"Powerful..." A request for more information, more tactical knowledge of his opponent. 

"I cannot break the shields," he replied, presuming that was answer enough. Then he rose and carefully re-built what he needed to search for the young Arrow. He settled again, holding the arrow in place, words falling very precisely, unwilling to take any risk with this—

\--and again his seeking broke against that unyielding wall of power. He broke the last of it with a displeased frown, and looked to Bruce. "The same result. Someone blocks my scrying." 

"That the same individual--or organization--has them both... troubles me," Bruce admitted. "Given their capabilities..." 

"Yes," Jason agreed with everything that was not spoken. It was frightening that anyone could hold them both, if that was the case--and the other options were even less worth considering. His friend's fear and rage and grief beat against his limited telepathy even more strongly now, and he frowned. "Bruce. Find us blades, and come spar with me." 

He shook his head, reaching for a reason, and Jason cut him off. "You will do no-one any good in this state. Come and spar with me, it will help settle you." The baleful glare he received was nothing to the man who lived every day with a demon inside his soul, and he merely waited for Bruce to jerk his head towards the gym area and began to walk in that direction. He followed, and once there accepted a bastard-sword from Bruce's hand, lifting it to a low guard position as Bruce turned with his own blade in hand, long sword as usual. 

He nodded once, taking the steps to clear their area of obstacles, and made the first attack at full human power and speed. Bruce parried, riposted, and the dance began. For the length of this match, Bruce would think of nothing else, that he could promise--a decade of study held nothing on centuries of experience, all of which he was willing to bring into play to keep him distracted from the burden of his grief.

`~`~`~`~`

It felt like he'd aged a century since this morning, watching Raven eat in the bright sunlight of the Tower morning, Vic realized as he cut the acceleration and started to bring the jet in. The cat draped up over his shoulders mewed and stretched, waking up. He'd been glad when Gar dropped off--he'd refused to leave him alone to identify Kory's body; and the sight of their golden girl's body on a morgue slab had nearly unhinged Gar. So it was good that he'd slept almost the entire way home. On their way out, they'd nearly literally run into the Sentinel and Black Lightning, so they'd waited for them to finish with the grim task of identifying their children--he couldn't even imagine. 

Once they had both recovered, he'd talked to them for a long while, trying to figure out when to hold the memorial service. The older heroes had pushed for soon, and he'd agreed. Two days should be enough to notify everyone that would want to come--and hopefully the JLA members that were off-planet would be back by then. He didn't know how they would ever explain to Wally that they'd held Kory's and Jenny's funeral without him. Where had been answered when the Sentinel's communicator chimed with a message from the JSA headquarters. The cardinal of New York had offered St. Patrick's Cathedral for services, if they wished--and it had been unthinkable to turn the offer down. Not when the Titans had spent so long in New York. Not when the JSA had, not when the city already held their bodies, had housed their team... Sentinel was going to handle those details, given his proximity to the city--and ability to fly in if necessary. 

Gar hopped back off his shoulders and settled for the landing. Once they were down, he slid out to brace the wheels and help finish the post-flight checks. Vic hated seeing him like this, hollow-eyed and aching, and once they were done he simply pulled Gar tight into his arms. "Gar..." 

"I... I just... I wish I could say I didn't believe it, that that wasn't her... God damn it, Vic, why Goldie!?" that last came out as a barely human snarl, Gar partially losing control of his change in the grip of the anger and loss, bulking up under his hands. 

"Wish I knew..." Vic just held on--it was really all he could do, offer the reassurance that his best friend wasn't alone in this... "I wish I knew." 

Gar twisted, wrapped arms tight around his waist. "Damnit, I can't fall apart, we've got the kids..." 

A quiet voice spoke from the doorway. "'The kids' are all asleep--finally. No one's going to see, Gar..." Vic twisted around just enough to see Raven there. "Rae..." 

"Vic." She crossed to them, leaning her too-young head against the side of his arm, one of her hands settling on Gar's shoulder. "Almost everyone's asleep, barring Bushido, who is awake, but meditating. Thankfully." She sounded so relieved--of course, the last few hours had to have been utter agony for her, given her trouble with blocking the emotions of others... 

"Sorry to leave you to tell everyone, Raven. I made the ca--" 

"Stop. You had other matters to attend to. I handled it. Superboy's come back, in addition to most of the teams." 

"I don't supp--" 

"No sign," she shook her head.

"And I cannot find either of them. Someone hides them from us." 

"Oh, god," Gar said against his chest. "Dick, Roy..." 

"I'm not going to stop trying," she promised, leaning against them--and a warning began to sound in his ear. "We've got incoming," he snapped, breaking away, moving for one of the monitors—

\--he slumped in relief. "It's Tempest, everything's okay. Let's go." 

Gar shook himself, doglike, pulling himself together as Raven headed for the door. He followed her, and Vic followed them both. 

They made it to the doors just as Tempest reached them, water still dripping off his suit, purple eyes worried. "Raven, Cyborg, Beast Boy... what's happened?" 

"Come sit down, Garth," Raven said, her tone making it obvious that was not optional, and he followed, settling onto a couch. "Raven, I've been swimming since this morning, I'm tired, what's happened?" 

Vic spoke before she could. She'd done this enough for one day. "It's bad, Garth. Dick and Roy are missing and Raven can't find them--and someone executed the Outsiders. Kory's gone. Jenny's gone. Black Lightning's daughter Anissa, Rex and Grace. We've lost a whole team." 

His face went pale, scars standing out boldly against white, white skin. "How? When? Raven, you can't find them? I thought..." 

"So did I. Someone's keeping them from me." 

As she took a breath, Gar spoke. "Someone took them down fast, and hard--then shot them. Execution style, with large-caliber rounds. No-one's telling us how long ago, yet. Batman said GA and GL found them--you know, Connor Hawke and Kyle... They need a moniker, so we don't have to keep clarifying, with Hal back. I mean, really." 

Vic hid a blink at the randomness of that, until he realized Gar was going off on tangents to avoid coping with the grief. 

Tempest shut his eyes, saying something long and lilting in spoken Atlantean that sounded like a prayer. "Is everyone in?" "Or has called in, yes. Almost everyone's here--and finally asleep." Raven answered. It was ridiculous to feel as if he should be more on top of the situation, he'd been away all day--but he did. He should've known where his team was. Raven frowned at him, and he knew he'd felt that too strongly for her comfort.

Tempest scrubbed his hands down his face, eyes staying closed for long moments. "All right. Raven, I may know a few tricks you don't, I'll see what I can find once I get some rest--oh god, who's got Lian?!" 

"She's missing too. Someone killed her sitter and took her..." Vic was surprised at the strength of Garth's reaction... until he remembered that Cerdian and Lian had been playmates until Garth vanished under the seas. 

"Oh, no. Who's looking where for suspects?" 

"Batman. Mr. Terrific, most of the JSA--but I don't know who they're looking at." 

"Remind me to suggest Cheshire to someone. She might be at it again." 

Gar shuddered, and Vic nearly did as well. Raven's lips compressed tightly, eyes darkening more. "You're right, someone should look," she agreed. 

Garth nodded, jaw popping with a jawn. "I'd stay up, but you'll need me more later, and I'm exhausted..." 

"As am I." 

"I think we all are, Garth," Vic nodded, and saw Gar do the same. "I'm going to check the security and try and get some rest, myself." 

"Vic... did you set a date?" 

"Two days--as of a few hours ago. Day after tomorrow. I'll tell everyone in the morning." 

Raven nodded, and turned to leave, Tempest rising to follow her. Gar stayed beside him, even as he went to go mess with the security settings--and found them set just below active invasion protocols. //Robin. Of course.// He read the series of tacked-up notes with a wary eye, then nodded and headed on down. 

`~`~`~`~`

Tempest walked beside Raven up the several floors of stairs, stepping out onto a hallway that could have been in any Tower, long row of doors emblazoned with insignia... He cocked his head at her, wondering where they'd decided to put him. 

"End of the hall, Garth," she answered, and walked beside him as he passed doors with soft--and not so soft--snores and sleep-noises emanating from behind them. He wondered why she was so silent--until he reached the center of the hallway. Side-by-side on what he'd noticed was the male side of the hall were two doors emblazoned with the upwards-arrow that had always meant Roy and the dark blue bird-shape that was Dick's. Then he looked across the way, and found that Kory's room was right there. Aching, stabbing grief lanced through the bitter numbness as Raven opened her own, bird-crested door and silently slid inside, leaving him alone with his grief as he found his own room and settled onto the bed. //Dick, Roy... where are you? Wally, why aren't you here? I can't be the last of us left who feels the Titans so strongly... I'm not strong enough to carry that...// 

Despite his exhaustion, sleep was a very long time coming.

`~`~`~`~`

Lady Vic frowned as she limped slowly through the small safe-house in southern Spain, tapping a letter against her lips thoughtfully. Postmarked from the States (damned colonials) without return address, printed by computer--this had the earmarks of a contract, but she had not told her agent where she intended to be. She'd spent a day in a villain's 'hospital,' another two to arrive in this secluded retreat, and two more licking her wounds Only one man knew where she'd intended to go--and their business was concluded. Uneasily, she entered her study and slit the envelope open with a quick flick of a blade, and lifted out three pieces of paper. One was a handwritten note--bold, masculine hand, and one she knew well... this was from the Terminator, after all. She read it curiously. 

Vic, 

For the treatment of your injuries, considering whose… over-reaction caused them. I believe this concludes our business, though you would be wise to stay far underground.

It was unsigned, as she would have expected. Her shoulder throbbed with pain at the thought of those wounds, hate blazing in her heart. She didn't really want to know what Deathstroke had done to win him over--but no matter which side he was playing on, she still hated him. 

She set the note aside to burn later, and unfolded the piece of tissue from around cashiers checks that totaled to somewhat above the amount of her bill--//put me in his debt again, the bastard,// she thought with a curse, keeping her hand from tightening with an effort of will. She settled the checks on the table and crushed the note in her hand, thinking about how to go about discharging this debt. She frowned as her tight-clenched hand began to sweat from the stress of another obligation, and carried the note with her to the bath to burn it, dumping the ashes away, wiping at her face without noticing a slow fission of sensation through her fingertips, through her forehead.

`~`~`~`~`

It took just over eighteen hours to reach the atoll, hidden in the wide expanses of the ocean. Oracle slept most of the way there, appreciating Atlantean technomagic for the speed of their underwater journey. Aquaman had secured her in her cabin, personally, reminding her in non-subtle fashion that the vessel they were on was a sovereign ship of his country, and a military secret. 

Getting set up, without Robin's nimble fingers, was a difficult procedure. Aquaman gave her a small staff, and Dolphin was fluttering around, but Oracle just tapped two of the least surly people to help her set up the equipment, supervising in strict detail, until she shooed everyone out and started running her own security measures, connecting her databases in a complex algorithmic relay through more satellites than even she could readily track. There was only so much she could do to protect herself, the data she used to guide the Lea…the heroes who called on her. But she was going to be damned if she did not follow every single step, to give them that much more of her ability.

`~`~`~`~`

The sun was barely breaking on the east coast as the space weary team of Superman, Flash, Metamorpho, and Martian Manhunter returned. Metamorpho was at the controls as they descended into the atmosphere, flying down to STAR Labs in their experimental prototype space jet. 

"Communications are silent still; think that blow may have permanently damaged the relays," Superman said to the pilot.

"You know Bats should look into funding a bit more research for our jets," Flash said. "This thing…barely feels like we're…" He cut off as Martian Manhunter cried out, reaching for his head, losing cohesive control over his form. "Whoa, J'onn!" He zipped into the alien's personal space dodging the shifting spikes and limbs of his friend. "J'onn!"

A stream of the consciousness lanced through the occupants of the jet, as J'onn reached out, trying to find a base to fight the pain of such loss in the men and women he considered his family. From them, he found the strength to steady, to at least take his public form again and grip Flash's shoulder for physical support. His eyes closed while the other three processed that feeling of grief and loss, talking in the background. J'onn tuned out their voices, their thoughts, reaching out to touch his friends, one by one.

Arthur…always easier to find him than others in the sea of humanity. There was purpose in his mind. He cast to Cindy next, his pseudo-daughter on this world that had been his home. She had a feeling of grief, but also of confusion, as if not quite accepting the cause of grief. Steeling himself from what that foreboded, he reached to Hal, to Dinah, from the first joining of minds he had forged as a League member. The one structured mind was torn between rage and grief, a small part dedicated to comforting Ollie while the other…

His eyes snapped open, as he realized there was a serious hole in his personal network. He reached deeper, activating the full League mesh he had constructed, touching active and reserve minds alike.

"Too many holes," he intoned, looking at Superman. "Something grave has happened… so much raw anger and grief, confusion, thoughts of vengeance."

"We're almost to the ground, buddy," Metamorpho promised. "I'm sure the docs will have news if something has happened while we were out of the loop."

J'onn was grateful as Flash settled beside him, sharing the long seat to one side of the craft, as Superman kept a worried eye their way. The green skinned alien tried to piece through the conflicting emotions, trying to determine the full cause, but there were too many people, being pulled in too many directions. Just as they were landing he grimaced, his mind having found a strong pull in one mass location. He looked at Flash, his eyes sad.

"The Titans…are together."

"The Titans?" Flash questioned, then his face bleached where it could be seen. "All of them?"

`~`~`~`~`

A scant thirty hours after initiating Delphi, Oracle was satisfied and ready to pull up her network again. She turned on her voder and began synching with the JSA, using her backdoors into the DEO, connecting to the WatchTower, continuing until she was tapped into every computer even semi-relevant to her research needs. Her hand shook as she hacked her entry into the Outsiders' computer backups, hidden at a remote location from their headquarters. Firmly, she stopped her mind spinning around Dick's vanishing, going fully into her Oracle mindset.

As she touched base with those on monitor duty for the various teams, her voice stayed steady, calm, but not flat. Right now, being the core of a communications network required the humanity of understanding the worry and grief, even as she began handling requests and assignments again. The fact that her Nightwing plushie stayed in her lap the whole time, the idea that the little action figure Dinah had hated so much stayed by her main monitor never impacted the way she handled her duties.

There was one small piece of news that made her feel that they might overcome this. As she touched base with Sand, he told her Tasmanian Devil had been tipped off to Lady Vic's whereabouts, after explaining they knew she had been at the Outsiders' HQ. Unfortunately, Lady Vic had not survived into custody. Initially Tasmanian Devil was accused of stepping over the line, but poison was indicated, and that had initiated a worldwide hunt for Cheshire.

`~`~`~`~`

Touching base with Jay, then Linda had taken a good bit of his day, Wally realized, as the Tower came into view. He did not want to be there, did not want to leave Linda, and yet…

It was where he belonged. He could only imagine how Garth was holding up, the only original there at the Tower. It was why he had chickened out, unable to face it over the communication links. He had cleared all of his other business, then fortified his nerves and run toward the Titans.

For a moment, approaching it like this, he remembered his years of adventuring with Dick, Roy, Garth, and Donna. He had enjoyed it, felt at home with them, and had a mentor who was the best thing in the world. Now, that team was smashed to pieces, and his mentor had made a decision he could not find it in himself to forgive. Even with the pain of everything he and Linda were going through, Wally felt Barry had been wrong that fateful day, and all of the past few weeks felt entirely too much like it had spun out of that one day.

He had to push the thoughts aside, as he sped up to the first checkpoint, and Jesse Quick was sitting there, in full costume, but her eyes swollen under the goggles. He came to a stop and cocked his head to one side, not sure what to say in light of all he had learned since coming back to Earth that morning. 

"Tell it to me, Wally." Her voice was harsh and emotional. "Teach me my formula again!" Bart, his constant runs to handle discreet communications with neither Oracle nor Martian Manhunter available, haunted her. She felt so vulnerable, with her speed gone, her mother's heritage so unpredictable. But she could have her speed back; all it would take was Wally teaching her again.

"You made me promise…"

"Shut up, Wallace West! You know good and damn well that what has happened nulls any request I made! This….I have to be there, I have to help!" She squared her shoulders. "Teach me," she said as fiercely as she had ever sounded, more anger in her than fear right now. Wally shuddered at seeing her dedication flare now. Always in the face of loss, he remembered, having been there time and again himself.

"I'll tell you, and then we'll run to be sure you have it back," he agreed.


	16. Crossed Lines and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The details of Identity Crisis are revealed within the household with strong reactions

The woman moved with precise intent, as if she were on the hunt. The man called Deathstroke in most circles had reason to be cautious as he monitored her. He was certain she had not yet tracked her quarry to his care, but he wanted to avert any violent repercussions of his decision. He really had not been pleased when his network had informed him of the woman's presence, so close to his home turf. He had occupied his household with training, and then slipped away to drive the few hours to intercept her. He had no wish to face her at the manor, and have it compromised. Once he was positive she was not being trailed by either a Bat-brat or one of the Birds Oracle employed, he opted for the most direct approach.

"Lady Shiva," he greeted, using full professional courtesy. The man was dressed in casual clothing, presenting no immediate, outward threat. He had no urge to draw full attention to himself today.

"Deathstroke." Her eyes studied him, appraising the man who had so recently been testing the young Batgirl. "Why are you in my path?" The path of destruction that Shiva carried in her whims was not an enviable place to be, and few stepped willingly into it.

"I have business with you." He kept his voice neutral.

"I have doubt of this." 

"You may find different. I know you are seeking someone, perhaps a student?" Slade could play his cards close, but did not have time to ghost around the issue very long. She eyed him sideways as they walked down the broad sidewalk together. 

"What do you seek in return for the knowledge you possess?" she asked him directly. 

He smiled a half smile. "I'm here to make you a deal, concerning the Society. I know you refused them. I know they will keep sending annoying representatives to persuade you, annoyances that take time away from your other pursuits." He saw her nod once. "I can stop them, if you drop your search. The bird is of use right now, and is not available for finding."

"Threats? I suppose next, you will intimate that more serious petitioners will come, eventually with an offer that cannot be refused and still allow me to live," she said, amused.

"That depends." He was not smiling now. "Tell me, specifically, what your student is worth to you."

Shiva paused their walk, considering what he had asked. "There is a matter of honor between she and I. She is not of a caliber to discharge that, which I seek to remedy. Then, I am sure, she and I will cross paths one last time, to see whose ideals are the better foundation." She inclined her head briefly, considering. "So she is worth a small portion of my honor at this point."

"Then my offer is this; you walk away, and I will see that she comes to no harm by another's hand. I may even be able to see to improving her caliber." He could see the potential, begun by raw talent, shaped by this woman and others, which he could mold further. "Once her purpose is at an end, I will deliver her into your hands only." He kept his ideas of the time frame involved to himself.

"I have one further stipulation, Slade Wilson." Shiva pinned her eyes on him with unnerving intensity. "Should she come to harm, before the end of her usefulness in your plans, you owe me a new student."

Deathstroke considered that. He had the unpleasant feeling that she would only accept a female student, and that meant Rose…or Lian. A slow warmth filled his one eye, and he nodded. The thought of Lian being trained by Shiva for hand to hand, himself for marksmanship was one that bore entertaining.

"Deal." He nodded to her, ready to part ways. 

"And Deathstroke?" Shiva added, making him pause. "I choose not to tell Huntress that we had this conversation."

"Courtesy between peers," he said with a smile, but she shook her head.

"No. Interest in seeing how you might break her from her principles." With that, Shiva left him, considering all her final words implied. He began walking back to where he had left his car, his mind on her words in view of Rose's recent vision. Dick had immediately thought of Dinah, and dismissed her, but now Slade wondered just what it would take to win her loyalty.

`~`~`~`~`

Canary had just thrown Rose as Slade came in to lounge in the door. He noted she was only using her own style against his daughter, which blended boxing with her martial art almost seamlessly. The girl got up and immediately attacked with raw power, only to find herself sitting on her butt quite harshly. The next attempt relied on speed, and again, she wound up on her tailbone. Canary was breathing hard, but her years of experience were making her a more than adequate teacher. Slade wondered just how long they had been practicing from the signs of exhaustion creeping into the Canary's form, and the fact it was pushing close to midnight.

Rose maneuvered to attack one more time, trying for guile, as she employed more subterfuge in her body language, bringing a small smile to the lips of her teacher. When Rose sliced the blade in on the left, Canary slapped the flat of it down, and was caught by a cunning sweep that followed it. When she regained her breath from the fall, she came to a kneeling position, holding her broken arm up as a signal to stop.

"Very good. Thinking it through is better than overpowering or rushing," Canary said. "We'll get to a point where you'll know which of the three to use against what type opponent, and even work to blending them, but anytime your opponent is experienced, the mind comes before the body."

"How are you so able to anticipate me? You don't have that meta ability," Rose accused.

"She has experience, with some of the fastest fighters the heroes have ever offered, instead of the meta advantage," Slade said, breaking into the training. 

Canary tried hard not to scowl at the man, and focused instead on her student. "Rose, I think that's enough for today. My arm is killing me," she said, cutting a small look Slade's way. He merely met her gaze unrepentantly, but nodded to his daughter to go. Once Rose had cleared out of the training room, Slade closed the door and sat on one of the benches, while Canary eyed him warily.

"I handled the matter of your former teacher." He carefully watched her face, seeing the fall of hope, though she quickly tried to hide it. //She knew.// That thought angered him, reminding him of both her duplicity in Light's case, and her stubborn streak of independence. "In case you wish to keep anything else from me, remember this; I've promised her a student in your place if I decide you are no longer necessary," he growled.

The fact she paled almost immediately told him his threat was aimed true. She had immediately thought of Lian, in Shiva's hands. "I did not 'keep' anything from you. I suspected my teammates would have thought she was responsible. Whether she investigated further…"

"You knew she would, after I warned you she did not need to come near this household," he stated. "Do not let this happen again."

Canary considered his words a long moment, actually being both still and quiet. She then nodded. "Fine, Wilson. Whatever you say." The harsh tone belied the words, anger rolling off her in waves. She was not going to push a fight, not now, when she was backed up to a wall, figuratively. "I'll be in my damn room." She strode out, jarring her arm with the angry steps she took, but he said nothing to stop her. In truth, he was rather pleased to see her angry rather than cowering; he saw it as a part of the spirit he had once respected, one of the traits he wanted instilled firmly in both girls.

Only when she slammed the door in leaving did he decide that she would need lessons in self-control. He had a good idea of what needed to be done, to start bringing her in line. All he needed was to have a small conversation with Dick and Roy.

`~`~`~`~`

Roy shut the door behind them, stretching fit to pop his spine as he sighed. "What a day. I'm glad she's finally down..." It felt so strange to be just talking with Dick, with so much hanging between them... but it was nice, too. 

"Me, too. And Dinah's got Rose, so we're safe from her..." Dick arched a brow and looked towards the bed--and Roy smiled at him, shaking his head just a little. "I love you, you know that?" How screwed up was it that only in Deathstroke's home could he be that honest about how he felt about Dick?

"I... yeah. I do. I wonder how we survived, sometimes, but..." 

"We're too stubborn to let go," Roy reminded him, the same words he'd used when he finally told Dick he'd forgiven him for the… difficulty of that first night, admitted he'd protested but never called his safeword, never put Dick to that final test. Dick's smile was the same joyous expression, and Roy just curled against him, kissing him for a while before finally pulling away. "Hey, speaking of Rose."

"Yes?" Dick asked curiously.

"I spotted something while she was sparring with you. Crawl in with me, and we'll talk it out," he invited, stopping just long enough for Dick to slip his collar back around his neck. 

~*~*~*~*

Slade glanced at the large grandfather clock at the end of the hall, and then nodded. He was fairly sure his boy was in Harper's room, and headed that way. He twisted the knob, opening the door and leaning in the doorway, to see his boy laid back on the bed, Harper's head on his thigh, as they spoke quietly. Both were still dressed, with Roy looking rumpled from a hard day of chasing Lian.

Dick glanced up as the door opened, bright smile flashing across his lips as Slade came home unharmed again. The move and the smile alerted Roy that Slade was at the door--he remembered that smile entirely too well, remembered how Dick's face used to light at the very sight of Bruce... He shifted to sit up, and the touch of Dick's fingertips against his shoulder stopped him. He gave Dick a curious look, and waited. 

"Slade, what is it?" the lack of an immediate summons made him wonder, and they'd been right in the middle of talking about a problem they'd both noticed in Rose's form. "Do you need me?" 

"Both of you." Seeing Harper had cinched Slade's suspicions on how to best clip Dinah's wings. "We need to discuss some of the events influencing the current power plays."

Dick pulled his hand away from Roy's shoulder, letting him move as he cocked his head curiously. "Here, the office, or somewhere else?" 

Roy twisted around to look at Slade, still disturbed by his apparent preference for casual wear at home. 

Slade inclined his head to the hall. "I think it might be best to do this in my office." He turned to walk out. "You two need to see some files."

Roy slid to his feet, immediately followed by Dick, and side-by-side they trailed Slade down to the office and inside. //What in the heck is he planning?// Roy wondered. In sharp contrast, //He's finally going to tell me, he's finally going to tell me,// was the main thought on Dick's mind. 

The man in question had gone to a file cabinet, and opened it removing three files. He slid these onto the desk, opening them to show images of Dr. Light from three very different time periods. The ones in the middle were very familiar to Roy and Dick, as some were telephoto shots of him fighting a younger team of Titans. The ones before that showed a man involved in far worse crimes than the Titans had ever stopped before. The final shots were of a nervous, broken man pleading with Slade, Luthor, and other powerhouses of the Society. "You recognize that this man is in three different mindsets, from three separate time periods?"

"Yeah, that's easy enough to see... I mean, that first set looks like the Light we fought last month, I remember these second ones, how on earth--never mind; but those last ones... There's so much difference here..." 

Roy's lips skinned back from his teeth in anger at the sight of images of the man that had beaten his father, tried for his little sister and then nearly kicked the ass of every last Titan... but he studied the pictures, pushing it down. "I'll give you that those don't look like the same guy, sure." 

"He hired me, to protect him. That was unusual in itself; I don't do the bodyguard scene." Slade's anger boiled up, laced his voice as he pointed at the pictures of Light speaking to the Society's heads. "But his story, once he told it, made me drop my original asking fee."

"You... dropped the price on a contract?" startled voice from Roy. He knew Slade, after all. 

"Why?" Dick asked, cutting to the more important question. "What would be a good enough reason for you to take that on?" 

Slade took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring with the anger he was barely containing to tell the facts as he knew them. "He was mind raped. That's what changed him from being a fairly competent, if distasteful criminal, to an idiot that barely fumbled through meetings with a bunch of half-grown kids."

Blue eyes and green snapped to his with a combination of indignant anger at the insult and complete shock, "What? Who by?" came from Dick, who had much more right to question Slade's announcements. 

Roy's skin crawled at the very idea, bad memories crawling through his mind. It wasn't as if anyone that'd ever been a Titan didn't have plenty of experience with telepathic //or empathic// villains. 

Slade met Dick's gaze evenly, then turned to Roy, knowing where the break point truly was. "The Justice League," he said, with a note of complete disdain.

Roy shook his head, "No way. Just, no way... That's not--I mean, that would've had to have been way back in the day, to make Light a moron when we were kids--you sure he wasn't lying to you?" 

Dick didn't want to believe, either, but there were very few people that could lie to Slade--and Light was certainly not one of them. 

Slade growled his answer. "Your precious mentors did this to him!" With a clenched fist, he pushed back away from the files, moving around his desk to sit in the chair there, to control his anger. He had always worked by his code, expecting the heroes to abide by certain rules as well. This, though, had shown him, shown them all, that the so-called heroes were not above using Nazi tactics for their own purposes.

"Bruce--" 

"Ollie--" 

"--would never," the instinctive defenses snapped from both of their mouths in an uncanny stereo--and a heartbeat later Dick was on his knees in front of Slade, eyes wide and apologetic, "I'm sorry, I believe you, I just... I don't want to believe that..." 

Slade's anger relented somewhat, as he caressed Dick's face. "I don't lie about this, or other things so important."

Roy was torn between defiant anger and the sure-and-certain knowledge that Slade was, actually, telling the truth--//as he was told it//. Seeing Dick like that shook him badly, but he hung on to the anger. "I know you don't, and if you're saying it you believe it, but not everyone has your code, and I just... I can't believe it. I can't..." If Slade knew his history, the damned mercenary would understand why... 

Dick pressed his cheek against Slade's hand--and froze in pure terror as Roy kept arguing. //Roy, stop, please... please just stop...//

Slade raised his gaze back to Harper's face, rage fighting his solid control. "Why don't you go ask, then?" he asked in too soft tones.

Roy blinked at him, then understanding crossed his face, "Yeah, Dinah would've been on it then... I... tell me the rest, tell me why you're so sure it's true and I will." 

Dick relaxed, tension flowing out of his shoulders as that dangerous rage wasn't targeted on his lover, and his ears were wide open as he listened.

"Certain...acquaintances were maintained even before the Society was conceived. We might have dismissed his story, if we had not come to see the pattern in others. Most notably, the Top." Slade drew in a deeper breath, stroking Dick's face and hair almost absently.

"The Top? Fleetfeet's pain-in-the-ass, the crazy one? The one that tried to make Barry crazy?" It had taken Roy a minute or two to process the name, longer yet to remember who it was... 

Dick shifted closer, leaning against one of Slade's legs, wishing he could see Roy. 

Slade coaxed his boy into laying his head fully on his thigh, caressing that hair, the line of the neck and feeling his icy calm come to him fully. "The Top nearly broke the Flash, apparently. And The Flash...the real one, Harper, retaliated in such a way that the Top went to the other side for a time. Before going insane."

"Retaliated... Flash didn't have that kind of skill, how could he have screwed with somebody's head?" 

Dick swallowed hard, having already thought that League roster through. "Zatanna, Roy. Zee can do damned near anything... that's who you mean, isn't it?" tilting his head up enough to look up at Slade's face. 

"That's what Light remembered, who he feared nearly most of all." Slade looked at Roy with a cocked eyebrow. "Nearly." He left it hanging, pushing at the redhead's curiosity.

Roy gave up and bit, "Nearly?" //Oh, yes, let him bait you...//

"One of the men apparently pushed the young witch quite a bit," he replied, before looking back down at Dick. "But, as you said, Harper, this is all as I have been told. I was not there."

"No way it was Ollie," Roy told him, head tossed back, clearly revealing the black leather band Dick had left wrapped around his throat and still completely defiant. "No way in hell." 

//Bruce wouldn't, he wouldn't, not ever, not in a million years he wouldn't...// Dick pressed tighter against Slade's leg, unable to even consider it rationally. 

"Anyway, no matter who it was, tell me why. What could ever have made the League decide to play god with someone's mind?" Roy couldn't help thinking about the televised accusations against the League, that they'd stolen his dignity... He'd taken that as the ravings of a madman, not the truth...

"Fear, I suppose." Slade ran a finger down the exposed part of Dick's neck. "Light admitted to getting to the Watchtower, learning who they were."

Cold lanced down Roy's back--he knew what Wally had had done, how frantically some of the older heroes protected their identities... "No. No, damnit, that's not enough reason... I... I've got to talk to her," his voice shook with the stress and the disbelief and all of the fear that this just might be true, and Dick shifted, neck pressed to Slade's light touch as he looked back at Roy, understanding in his eyes. They flicked up to Slade for a moment, checking, and when he saw permission, they flicked back to his beloved. "Go find out, Roy." 

"Always two sides to a story," Slade conceded. "She was there, so get her side." Slade then tapped Dick's shoulder. "She should not, however, have to see her son's ownership so clearly."

Roy knew absolute, naked gratitude was standing in his eyes as he looked at Slade. He couldn't remove it himself, and the sight was likely to throw Dinah into too strong a rage to reason with. The older man inclined his head marginally, returning the gratitude with acceptance.

Dick slid to his feet with a nod, going to Roy to pull him hard into his arms, holding him tight for a long moment before he could slide his hands up to unfasten the collar, lifting it so very gently away from his neck, tucking it into a pocket. "I should've thought of that. Sorry, my own." He kissed him, hot and sure, then slowly let go. 

Roy flashed a smile at him, shrugging a shoulder. "It's fine, Dick, she'll see me in it eventually. I'll be back..." 

Slade watched the kiss, then Harper leaving before focusing on his boy. "Come here, kid," he ordered in a gentle voice, flicking on the monitor closest to Dinah's room. She was sitting in her armchair, feet tucked under her as she held her face in her strong hand, the broken one tucked close. 

Dick went to him, studying Slade's posture for clues to where exactly he was supposed to put himself, then settled in, watching the monitor with a small, amused smirk, though he wondered what had gotten to her this time. 

Slade kept one hand on Dick the whole time, adjusting the volume and camera angle once Harper reached the room.

Roy rapped once against the door, hard, then pushed it open, his eyes wide as he located her, "Dinah, tell me he's wrong, please, tell me he's lying..." 

Dick curled back against Slade, watching the monitor, body tensed as he listened to the beginning of this. The mercenary watched the blood drain from Dinah's face, the look of knowing just what Roy was speaking of.

"How will the bird sing?" Slade knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, he would kill her if she tried to lie. He would just have to pay Shiva's claim with Harper's daughter. 

Dinah had slipped from her chair, rising and turning away from Roy, her entire posture defeated. "Never meant for anyone to be hurt...."

That single phrase ripped through Roy, making him reel, slamming a knife through everything he'd ever believed about the life he'd lived, "oh, god. ...he's not. You... you all really... That's..." he stuttered with the pure force of his disbelief and shock.

Dick pressed tighter to Slade's body, closing his eyes tightly. //God damn it... the bastard was telling the truth, all along, and I refused to believe it... I wanted it to just be the ravings of a madman, and it wasn't...//

"She's not denying it," he said approvingly. It helped him be more open to what she might say. His touch was consoling in its own way to Dick, knowing the boy had grown up worshiping the people in question. 

Dinah had been silent a long moment, then turned back, her eyes full of tears. "They voted, we lost the vote...Had to follow it."

"What the hell, Di? Explain to me what would possibly cause the Justice League--" and all of his shattered faith was in those two words "--to vote to Rape. A. Man's. Mind. Tell me it wasn't just the identities. TELL me." 

Dinah reacted as if slapped. "Roy...God no!" She looked horror struck. "If it had been just that, we might have argued them down...." She shook violently. "But after what he did to Sue..."

"Sue? Di, tell me WHY," his voice begged her, even as his heart leapt at the confirmation that it wasn't something so petty. 

Dick tensed, eyes snapping open. There was more to this story than anyone outside that League had heard before. 

Slade leaned forward, face dropping into the frown of concentration, reading the lines of his prey's body for truthfulness. 

Dinah clung tightly to herself, her eyes closing and spilling those tears of pain. "He ...she was so...." She swallowed hard. "Worse than what the Slasher did to me..." was all she managed, knowing Roy could understand that.

"He raped her. Raped Sue," Roy's voice was a soft, harsh hiss. Non-powered, non-hero, sweet, gentle Sue, who's death had nearly ripped them all apart... he'd attacked her?

Dick bit at his hand, fighting to stay silent, to make himself listen to all of this without reacting emotionally. 

Dinah nodded slowly, her entire body shaking as she remembered finding her like that. 

"Two sides," Slade whispered, so softly that Dick knew his lover had not known.

Roy was so utterly torn, between going to hold Dinah tight and the knowledge that she might reject his touch and by the fact that part of him was too angry and shaken and hurt to even consider going to her, and all of his words got trapped in his throat.

Dick's eyes were darkened with anger and grief. They'd all liked Sue. He'd helped hunt her killer as eagerly as he'd ever hunted Gotham's rogues... And only the fact that Roy had never coded him to stop, and had now willingly forgiven him, kept him from sinking into an utter ball of self-hate. He fished for one of Slade's hands, feeling their whole world reel from what was being said. //Who knew? Who didn't? Who was in on this?// 

Slade was tense, too tense, but he did grip his boy's hand, thinking hard. In his eyes, what Light had done was inexcusable. Had she been an active hero, able to fight him on his level, that would have been one thing. But Sue Dibny had been collateral damage, a civilian too close to the ongoing battle. The sharp distinction between fair game opponents and civilians came to mind quickly. It was a rule he had discarded in the past, but always with a clean death. There were things far worse, and what Light had done was one of those. 

Dinah did not have the words to reach out to Roy; she found herself moving away from him, feeling the fact she had done this horrible thing all over again. A hundred years might pass, but she would never forgive herself for having failed her mother, her father in living the way they would have been proud of.

"Dinah." From somewhere Roy found the strength to speak, "Okay. That's... unconscionable, no question. You know what I think of rapists, Di, and not just because of you... but how could you be part of raping someone's mind just as much as he'd just raped her? How could they, could you, cross that line? Weren't you the one that always tried to teach me that it was justice, NOT vengeance, we served? That the only thing that made the difference between us and them was that we didn't take vengeance?" 

Slade made a low noise in his throat. Half a dozen encounters with the blonde, and he began to glimpse just how much bravado had poured across in her incessant verbal sniping at him. She had always been careful to never show him weakness, and that now had the taint of a woman who had clawed her way up from a very low place. He continued to seethe at her involvement in the event, though, filing away the information for later to research. 

The small frame shook as if he had physically assaulted her, before Dinah turned back to Roy, angry hurt on her face. "I didn't want this! Ever! But you don't go against your... DAMMIT!" She could not help the hint of the Cry; she was too emotional, and the mirror on the wall trembled from the power echoing in the room.

"Don't go against your what, Dinah?" Roy was trying to understand this, "Make me understand, Di, please." 

She dropped her eyes, her voice falling in volume, and going toneless with the recall of it all. "Seven of us, Roy. That's how many got there, saw...her. Found Light who was threatening all of us... our loved ones. Knew who we were, who our lives touched." She slowly sank to her knees, sobbing. "Roy...I voted against it! We did, and if Barry had been with us like usual...."

Roy couldn't hold out against her agony--not Dinah's, not with what she was to him--and he went to her, kneeling at her side, hands going out to her. "Tell me, Di. Tell me everything..." his voice was gentle as a hand brushed lightly over her hair. "C'mon, Di, sweetheart, let it out..."

"I've never seen her like this..." Dick's voice was shocked. All the years the Canary had been around, all fearless grace and strength and quick, sharp mind... he'd never guessed how much that was hiding. 

Slade nodded. "No." The woman had been foe and ally both over the years, but this was a side of her well hidden. 

Dinah flinched from the touch, every sign in her body language one of being repulsed, but not by him. She did not want him to touch her, to dirty his hands by doing so. "It was less than six months after Iris... do you remember her, Roy? Barry's love?"

"A little--y'know, I didn't see her much, but I remember what that did to Wally..." Roy pulled her in anyway, pulling her tight against his body. 

Dick watched his boy pull his 'mother' close, and worried for him. God, this was hurting him so badly... He was more angry than hurt, the fact of the League's guilt now unquestionable. 

"Will he be able to pull her together?" Slade questioned in a neutral voice. 

"I... I'm not sure," Dick admitted.

Dinah began through a shuddered sob, calming some. "We had just lost her. Barry was still a wreck from it." She grew silent a long moment, violently tense. "We wanted justice, but we had to find some way to protect all of you. You kids, girlfriends, all of it." She started to cry again, but bit her lip hard, focusing on that pain to fight it down. "Hal and Ollie were adamant. I backed them; no matter how sickened I was, how scared I was, I believed we would find a way to have justice and see you all safe from him."

"Okay... so what happened? What changed? If you were saying no..."

Dinah looked up at last, her eyes haunted. "We voted. Zee...she had been so hurt, and there was Carter, pushing her, telling her she had the ability to fix it all. Atom had his wife, and would have done anything to protect her." She gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Then you had team green and blonde. I think even Carter was sure we had the vote, as solidly as Hal and Ollie spoke. Barry never went against us when we agreed like that. He was a cop...he knew..." She brought her fist up to her mouth, pressing the knuckle hard to her lips, the pain flaring sharply. "He couldn't stop thinking of Iris."

Roy held her, trying to get this image solid in his mind, "So... Hawkman pushed her? Hotheaded son of a bitch... and Ray and Jean were still--" he tried NOT to think of how that all had ended, "And you and Ollie and Hal were fighting it?" He paused a moment, hearing himself say that, shoulders shaking with relief, //thank gods,// "You should've had it, you were right... But I don't understand how Barry could..." 

"Zoom knew everything about Barry. Every little detail. He had already seen what could happen, and lost his soul's mate," she managed, around small shudders. "We lost the vote, and had to abide by it...back then, it seemed so simple. You did not go against your team...and Barry...he was one of mine. My damn leader." She tried to pull away from him, struggling with it. "I trusted him to lead us right. So much like Dad..." She was shaking again, the coiled tension snapping out in the flex of her hands. 

Roy held her crushingly tight, absolutely unwilling to let her go, knowing all too well what that moment when your leader broke and betrayed you felt like--and he was still following Dick through hell. "Di... god, Di, I get that... I, do, but... someone's mind, someone's soul? How could you let a vote justify playing god like that?" 

Dick waited for her answer to that, wondering what possible justification she could see for that kind of an action.

Slade considered the information being revealed from his own perspective. To be betrayed by a team leader was a very difficult thing to overcome, he would admit. And he almost saw the way the losers of the vote could not have broken ranks. It would have broken the corps fidelity. Still, Roy had a strong point. 

The blonde shook her head. "We had no right. Not a one of us. We turned into our worst enemies, took away all the justice from it by doing that." She flinched again from her memories.

"Yeah." Roy couldn't argue, wouldn't disagree, not when she was so damned right. "But it'd happened, and for whatever reasons you couldn't change the vote, couldn't change their minds..." he shook his head, holding onto her, "Di... please tell me that was the only time? I mean, between the rape and that he knew and his powers I can understand the need---Ollie should've just put a broad head through his heart, but I can understand the need... as long as you tell me it was just that once." He needed something to cling to so very badly, some proof that it had been an extreme situation, not something they did regularly...

"Ollie hadn't killed yet, then...and it was Carter's wish to kill him, and Ollie arguing that down..." She wrapped her good arm around her knees, looking for the entire world like a scared kid. 

Slade leaned forward sharply. "She's evading," he growled, all his anger coming back again.

Dick caught that too, caught the shift in her posture and the tone of her voice, "It's not the only time, or she'd have said so... gods, who else?" 

Roy winced, closing his eyes at the sudden memory of hearing of his "father's" first kill, contrasting the world they'd left so far behind with the blood on his own hands. "No, he hadn't... god, that's so Ollie... Di, please..." 

She flung herself away from him, moving with the speed that came from being a world-class martial artist, and only stopped at the far wall. She would not turn around, would not look at him. "They...we...were interrupted. Someone came up, before Zee finished. I...I'm not sure how it really came about; I was still reeling from what they...we...were doing."

"A hero?!" the startled exclamation ripped from Dick's lips. 

Roy froze, kneeling on the floor with his arms still open, eyes tracking up her legs and back to her shoulders, "oh. god. di, no..." his voice as small as she'd ever heard it. //No, no, Dinah, don't tell me you did this to one of our own...//

"Roy, every night I've seen him, worked alongside him...I wished I could just..." She broke it off, hanging her head further. "You have no idea how much he has done for me over the years. And I always come back to that, to the second vote, and what was decided." She was almost whispering. "Working in his city...so glad when she moved us out...it was too much." 

The hand in Dick's squeezed, painfully, as realization broke for Slade who she was referring to. 

"Even working past it, now that he knows...I'll never be worth his notice."

"Oh that fucking bitch!" low, savage hiss as the Bat's child stared at her image from Renegade's cold eyes, incandescent, seething fury lashing through him, "That backstabbing, lying, deceitful little bitch... And they've both kept coming on to him for how long?!" Dick fought the urge to curse like a sailor, eyes going dark and hard. "The League fucked with Bruce's mind? God, I knew he wouldn't be part of that..." Too much relief in that last for his own tastes and he turned to press a kiss along his lover's neck, body saying, //yours, still yours, no matter what.// 

Roy tilted his head, not understanding, not for long, long seconds, then 'she' and 'moved us out' and 'His city' and 'done for me' all registered and "BRUCE? You... they screwed with Bruce's mind?! Di, how could you?!"

"It was not my conscious choice!" She turned back, her eyes desperate that he believe her. "It all happened so fast." 

Slade held his boy tight to his body, the timeline immediately presenting itself to him. He knew Dick's history so intimately, and had tested himself against Batman for years. There was no doubt in his mind that what had been done had led to the evolution of the son of a bitch he had stolen Dick away from. 

Roy forced himself to his feet, watching her, more than half-broken by what she'd revealed, by what the heroes he'd grown up worshipping had done, not only to an enemy but to one. of. their. Own... "Di... Bruce? Wait. What exactly did you do to him?" 

Dick shuddered in Slade's arms, hands fisting in his shirt to make himself keep listening... 

She shuddered. "We made him forget what he had seen, what we had done." She shook her head. "It was a panicked reaction, and one I know I always regretted. He was not the same from that day." She fought the urge to breakdown again. "He should hate me," she whispered. 

"They... took. his. Memories?" low, shaken hiss as the little boy he'd once been tried for a moment to rejoice at the thought that it wasn't all Bruce's fault--but yet, a few moments of stolen memory shouldn't have so utterly destroyed their partnership. No matter what the League had done, he shouldn't have... That shouldn't have been enough to sever the bond between Batman and Robin. "Oh, god..." soft, low moan. 

Roy flinched back, winced, for the first time understanding the reasons behind the protocols the Bat had built against their metahuman allies--right now, they frightened him... 

Dinah showed that uncanny ability to think with someone, especially one so close to her. "Batman remembered, at some level. He had to have, because the man I revered would never have engineered the means to take down the League otherwise."

"Dick," Slade began, his voice hard and cold. "They will pay."

"No... oh god, Dick... this is gonna kill him..." 

Dick purred harshly, eyes hot and hungry, "All his warnings about playing god, he knew all along, even if he didn't...." He shook his head violently, twisting around, looking at Slade with desperation to even the scales blazing in his eyes. He might not be Bruce's son anyone, not with the amount of shed blood and betrayal between them, but this still cut deep. 

The mercenary was watching the drama in his guest room more intently. 

"It all started to come out, when Light....when he was our main suspect. The others wanted to know why, and even though Ollie tried...Carter still would not let anyone admit it." Dinah clenched her fists so tightly her nails were cutting skin. "I told Ollie, and we both were going to lay it out...but then it all blew up anyway."

Roy tilted his head--the Outsiders had been just a little busy lately, running desperately to keep up with the surging villain activity, so he wasn't sure what she meant. He hadn't even talked to Mia recently, let alone anyone else. 

Dick settled back against him, hands flexing with his desperate desire to move...

Dinah shivered. "We went to fight Light. And the truth came out after ...after he beat us, guarding the bastard." She winced, remembering how easily Deathstroke had beaten them. "It was the original six, and Flash." More tears tracked her cheeks. "I hated that he had to find out like that, but I was damn glad when Br...Batman did. I could live with his hate." 

"So he does know," Slade said. He thought to the night he had taken Dinah, remembered seeing her and the man on the roof. Batman had not been unwilling in that kiss.

"That's why Fleetfeet called and warned us, he knew... god, he knew and he didn't tell Dick..." he bit at his lip, shaking his head, "So he knows? That's why he left the League, not just the thing with Diana?" 

"I... I can't deal with this..." Dick shuddered, trying not to struggle in Slade's grasp, but he needed to do something... 

"Go." Slade released the boy, knowing it was best. His own anger was just under the surface. Part of him wanted to go take over the questioning, to learn everything, and the other part knew Roy was actually gaining far more honesty from the lying bitch than he ever would. 

"He was struggling with it, Roy. Barry was his world. The man was everything to him. Imagine if it had been Ollie." Even she physically flinched from that. "Who had done something so against code...remember your initial reaction to him killing the Slasher. What that did to your image of him."

Dick flung himself up out of the chair and went, out of the office and down to the training room, taking a spot in the center of the training dummies before he exploded into motion, envisioning certain heroes faces over the blank dummies as he let himself flow through routine after routine, the hard, jarring impacts disturbingly pleasing... 

Roy closed his eyes, nodding slowly, "I... yeah, you're right, Di, he would've been... And I don't have to imagine, it was Ollie. And Hal. And you, Di..." his green eyes dark with pain. "Damn it. I didn't want to believe him..." 

Dinah lowered her eyes again. "He's always been an honest man, by and large," she said, following his thoughts of who had told him. "Roy..." her voice broke. "Please, believe this one thing...I've never regretted anything more in my life than letting myself bend that day." She paused a long moment, then continued, "Not even letting Ollie go."

Roy looked back at her, eyes still shadowed, "I... believe you, Dinah. But... when I'm taking Slade Wilson's moral side on this, when I can't even think of the 'justice league' without feeling revolted... there's something deeply, deeply wrong." 

She nodded, wiping the last vestiges of tears from her face. "I gave myself to Oracle so strongly, away from the League, to the JSA, to try and make amends. But I can't. What I took part in is unforgivable." Just as she had faced Batman, she faced her son/brother/friend, refusing to make excuses for herself, even as she had tried to point out the reasons her friends had failed. "You...you are strong, Roy. And no matter who you work for, you have the right heart for this, the way to decide what is right." She turned away, making it plain in her silence that she knew she did not.

Roy walked to her, then, "You used to, Di. Who do you think taught it to me? You gave me that. I just... hope what I may have to do doesn't break your faith in me... I don't know what's going to happen--and I don't know how much they'll let me tell you, but I could see in his eyes that he's planning something..." 

Dinah reacted to that with a wide-eyed look. "God, Roy..." She gripped his hand. "He..." She cut herself off, clenching her jaw.

In his office, Slade wondered just what the woman had started to say, not sure he had read the look in her eyes just right.

"What, Dinah?"

"He can't want a world where that...Society rules with a clenched fist. Won't be good for business, at the least," she said softly, a tang of bitterness in her voice. "Just be a voice of reason to him, Roy. He's got a better code than we did, apparently."

"No, I can't see him wanting that either--I could be wrong, but I doubt it... That code of his... it's not such a bad way to live, not really--I mean, god, he ran with us Titans for how long?" 

Dinah shook her head. "There was a time when I did not really..." She stopped herself again. "Much as he's done that is inescapably wrong; I'll still back him over Carter, a hundred times over. But the ones he works with?" She shuddered. "Not that nest of vipers."

"I can just guess who's leading that unification charge, and it scares me to death," Roy agreed. 

Dinah shook her head. "Oracle had definitely pinpointed Talia's handiwork. Hard to hide that from a bat."

Slade's eye narrowed as he ran over the words again in his head. He supposed Rose might really have seen Dinah in her vision, and it made him set some small part of his anger for the League aside, in her case. If she wanted to find redemption, he was sure he could find a place for her to work toward it in his plans. 

"Yeah, maybe just a little..." he laid a hand on her shoulder gently. "Di... You fought it... and that helps. It... means you're still my Dinah..." 

She was tense, vibrating almost as badly as Wally could. "No, Roy...That Dinah fell to the earth years ago, when she lost sight of what was right."

"So what, you're going to curl up broken-winged in a cage and die? That's not the woman that dragged me kicking and screaming out of my addiction, that supported me and pushed me and fought for me, don't you dare give up now!" 

Dinah shook like a leaf, and then buried her face in his chest. "He gave me this cage; what else am I supposed to do? I have to behave, for you, for our little girl!"

Roy found his arms wrapping around her again, whispering to her, his voice soft, low and gentle. "Oh, Dinah... You might have to behave, but that doesn't mean you get to just give up…" 

She kept her face pressed to his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt now that she was not fighting them. "He's not going to trust me, Roy. I know that beyond the shadow of a doubt. Even if he has a plan I could conscience, I'm irredeemable."

He couldn't stand to hear her say that, not about herself, not now or ever... "No, you're not, Di. You've done too much good for too long for this to be the end of it, for the worst decision you ever made to be the one thing people judge you by..." 

"Why not? These decisions have had the harshest impact of any I have ever made in my life, Roy. I helped …I helped destroy a man I respected, saw to the rape of a man's mind, which led to where we are now, and kept silent on both decisions," she told him, the bitterness mixed in equal parts with defeat.

""Yeah, you did... but that's not who you are--and if you think it is, try telling that to everyone you ever saved, Dinah. You look me in the eye and tell me what you were forced into invalidates the fact that you saved my life and my sanity!" His hands locked hard on her shoulders. "Hal might've pulled me out, but you're the only reason I'm not dead in an alley with a needle in my arm."

She slowly brought her face up, her eyes completely lost with her guilt now that he knew. "How could I turn my back on you, baby? Ever? You were hurting so bad."

"You couldn't, you wouldn't. Because that's not who you are. It never has been... and don't you dare make yourself some that would because you're drowning..." 

Dinah drew away from him. "Roy, I..." She shook her head. "I think I need to be alone, Roy." 

"And I think that's the last thing you need, but if you want me to, I'll go..." 

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He hugged her tight, gave her a long, worried look, and slowly turned to leave, hating it so very much. Despite everything, she was still Dinah, and leaving her aching and so broken ripped at his heart. 

She did not move from her position as he left, did not call him back. She just stood there, longing for a view of the outside, hugging herself tight.

Roy stopped outside her door, leaned back against it and closed his eyes, shuddering. The taint of this was spreading throughout the world, had spread, and the knowledge that his "father" and his "uncle" and... and everything Dinah was to him, mother and sister and confidante and friend... that they'd all helped in this... He felt unclean. 

Slade stared at the monitor as Dinah slowly sank down on the floor, shaking her head in denial at all of it. She gave a few silent sobs, hand up over her face. He was about to stand, his mind on ways to make both the League and Light pay, when he saw her jerk violently and scan the ceiling. 

Roy forced himself into motion, making himself go back to that office, feet kind of slow, however. He didn't want to do this--hell, he wanted more than anything not to have to go make this 'mission' report to a man that would gloat so much over being proven right.

"No, son of a bitch...no," Dinah cursed, before collapsing against the carpet, racked by sobs and shuddering spasms yet again, as she realized just what she had betrayed in her conversation.

Slade sat back in the chair, his eyebrow arching as he saw her newly broken state. "Forgot my eyes were on you, Little Bird?" he mused. 

Roy made it back and rapped at the door, not willing to walk in without Slade's consent. 

"Enter," the mercenary called, not removing his gaze from the monitor.

Roy stepped in, his eyes snapped to the monitor, and anger overrode almost every lick of his self-preservation instincts, "You bugged her room?!" 

"Don't be stupid, boy. I monitor all aspects of my household." Slade continued to watch a moment longer, then turned back to him. "Well?"

Roy bit his lip until it bled, "I showed up to tell you you were right--but you already know that," eyes glaring at the monitor, then the realization hit. "Oh, god, where's Dick?"

Slade inclined his head to the door. "Training room, most likely." The voice was cold, fully under control in the way Roy had heard too many times in the heat of a battle going against Slade's wishes.

Roy nodded, turned to go, and Slade spoke. "Harper."

That voice dragged him up short, but only for a moment. "Was there something? Or can I go try and coax my lover back to something that vaguely resembles sanity?" 

"He would hurt you right now. Your association with her is too strong." Slade studied Harper for a long moment. "I suggest letting him work thorough it fist, until he is no longer violent."

"…he's that flipped? What'm I saying? Of course he's that flipped." He stopped, shook his head, scrubbed his hands over his face, "I... jesus. Effing. christ, this is..." 

"Where do you stand now, Harper?" Slade asked, while the man was still disoriented. "Does your answer remain the same as when we discussed it?"

A million responses ran through Roy's head, 'I can't back the League, not now' collided harshly with 'I can't go against the Titans", and screams about the idea of a world where the villains ruled flung themselves hard against his control... "I still stand with Dick, yes," he managed to answer--hopefully before Slade could get pissed off at him. 

The mercenary nodded sharply. "Very well." He glanced again at the monitor, where Roy could see Dinah was neither moving nor making any sound now. "Don't make him regret that." It was the only warning Roy would get from him, and had the feel of a dismissal.

Roy shrugged a shoulder, then nodded. "I'm going to go hang around the training room and pray he stops before breaks something else..." 

Slade let him reach the door. "Harper, tell Rose to go assist her teacher," he added.

"I figured she'd gone to bed, this late," Roy said, "but I'll go tell her."

"I sincerely doubt she is asleep." He knew his daughter. "Be ready to go operative tomorrow or the night after." He was pulling files close, sorting through them, as he prioritized his work in view of the new information he had.

Roy froze for a moment, then nodded once. "All right. I'm gone," and he did just that, walking down to rap his knuckles against Rose's door. The sound of a stereo turning down accompanied a call that it was open.

Roy sighed and pushed the door open, just knowing he was walking into more trouble. "Rose, are you decent?" he asked once he had the door open about halfway. 

A girlish giggle preceded her answer. "Am I ever?"

"Okay, fine, are you dressed? If not, get that way, your dad wants to you to go take care of Dinah." 

There was a pause, and then she was standing there at the door, dressed in a pair of sweats he recognized as Dick's and one of his shirts from the wardrobe he had been given. "Is she okay?" The detached tone was at odds with her eye searching his face for clues.

"No. She's not. She's... really not. Be... be careful with her, Rose, she needs someone--and since she won't let it be me, maybe you've got a chance..." 

She reached up, patting his cheek gently. "I'll be good to her." She slipped past him, heading down the hall in the direction of Dinah's room.

"Thanks, Rose," he called after her--then realized what she was wearing and wondered how in the heck she'd gotten to their clothes. And why... but there were other times to try and get answers to those. Right now, he was going to go wait for his lover.


	17. The Face Value of Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gameboard begins to settle into place

A hard, heavy rap at the door snapped Dick into consciousness and he called out, "Yes?" even as he started to roll away from Roy and onto his feet. God, he was tired. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep after that bitch's revelations, after the news that--he cut off the thoughts, cut off the surging anger as Slade's hard-edged voice came through the door. "Up and moving, Kid. You two have a flight in three hours and Harper needs to pack his kit."

//Flight? Contract--Information on the way? Not much time to plan (Slade's got that-)--don't care I'd rather do it myself. And what's this about Roy?!// Curiosity to realization to uncertainty to exasperation and then frustrated fear in the space between getting his upper body vertical and his feet hitting the floor lightly, "All right. I'm moving," he called back, scraping his hand hard over his face. "Meet you in the kitchen in twenty?" Thank god for the healing the serum provided, or everything he had would be screaming with pain. 

"Make it the office in forty." He didn't hear Slade leave, but that had been a conversation-ending tone, and he turned to look back at Roy--who was stretching and trying to blink sleep out of his eyes. "Nngh. What is it, four am?" 

"About 6, actually."

"Too damn early, flyboy. He's a sadist." 

A variety of retorts flickered through his mind, but he settled for the only important one. "Why does Slade think he's sending both of us? I never--"

"Because he is, Dick. I'm not going to let him get you killed. I've got your back." Only because Dick knew Roy could he see the unhappiness the determination didn't quite cover. 

"Roy... I don't... You don't need to do this..." //This isn't what I wanted, I just wanted you safe you're better than this you're better--// all flashed through his head, possibly through his eyes, "I didn't--I don't--"

Roy sat up, tilting his head, morning sunlight winking off rings and rivets at his throat. "Y' don't what, Dick?"

"I don't want you in this--I didn't--" he found himself silenced as Roy kissed him, long and gentle, a slow smile on his lips when he finally pulled away. 

"I didn't think you did, Dick--this isn't between me and you, it's between me and Slade, and I'm not going to back out. I'm not leaving you alone."

"Roy..." 

"No, Dick. I love you, I've got your back--besides, it's not like it'll be the first time I've killed for a paycheck." Deliberate carelessness in those words.

"That's not--" //Goddamn it, that was government work and it nearly killed you, yes I want you with me but not-like-this... You're not the murderer here, my own...// Part of him was rejoicing at the idea of having backup again, at the thought of Roy at his back where he belonged--but most of him was desperate to keep his own, his beloved, far, far out of the blood-money world he'd thrown himself into. He opened his mouth again, and Roy frowned at him. 

"Dick. Come on. Don't make me argue with you about this--I gave my word to Slade that I'd have your back." 

That... ended that argument. But damn it, he and Slade were going to have words about this. Slade knew he wanted Roy safe! He knew! Frowning, he slipped Roy's collar off again, and left it lay on the nightstand as he kissed him, then slid out of the bed to go clean up quickly and dress, Roy right behind him.

Breakfast was almost tasteless in his mouth, and he was hard-pressed to trade the usual quips with Rose--thankfully Canary was nowhere around. Apparently she had at least something of a self-preservation instinct, he noted acidly, finishing up his food and waiting for Roy. 

The redhead downed the last bites of his toast and stuck his plate in the sink, then they headed for Lian's room. Dick stayed outside while Roy said goodbye to her, listening to their low voices--then Lian padded out the door in her pajamas to demand a hug, which he was only too glad to give. 

"Be careful," she told him, little-girl voice stern, and he nodded. "Yes, Lian. We'll be careful."

"Good," she hugged him tight, then squirmed and he put her down, letting her go back to bed. 

Roy rejoined him and they headed for Slade's office--and if his lover was conflicted, Dick couldn't see it. The door was standing open, and Slade called them in, standing at the desk, maps spread across it. Dick glared at his back, lips set unhappily, and Slade seemed to completely ignore it as Roy crossed to stand across the desk from him and he took a spot between the two men. //Okay, pack it in, Grayson. Mission now, deal with this later,// he told himself, and looked down at the maps, trying to recognize the--

"Colombia? Bogotá area?" Roy'd recognized the landscape faster than he had... but then, that was no surprise. He'd always been focused on the US unless there was something specific going on, Roy'd spent a few years abroad--and Colombia only meant one thing. 

"Good, Harper. One Hector Rodriguez has become enough of problem to some of his former business associates that they've chosen to contract his death. He's been sending back vital parts of their own personnel, which is why they hired me--us, I suppose." 

"Drug dealer, huh? Oh, this should be fun..." Roy's voice implied anything but, and Dick happened to agree. Gods knew they'd busted enough of them over the years, and the encounters were never fun. Slade's soft snort seemed to say he agreed. 

"Have a look, both of you. This is everything they could give me. Compound layout, what security they know he has--"

Dick rolled his eyes, "None of which is still going to be in effect if this guy has a brain--and apparently he does--but the maps ought to help. Precision strike, I assume?" More like he prayed. He could handle this--drug dealers were the scum of the earth anyway, and if it was a precision hit he could keep the blood off Roy's hands. 

Slade nodded. "They're not interested in the death of possibly useful personnel, just Rodriguez."

Dick kept the relief off his face, out of his eyes, and just nodded. Roy leaned over the maps, tracing topo lines with his fingertip, head tilted. "Insertion?" 

"Private plane to our employer's air strip here," and his hand tapped the map, several miles distant. "He's promised a truck, which you'll need to get through the terrain." 

"Damned jungle," Roy muttered, and Dick nodded his agreement, leaning in to study the lay of the land. "I'm going to want to hike at least those last two miles, just in case."

Two quick nods, and they started laying out the basic plan. He'd always known Roy was good... but he could tell from tiny shifts in Slade's body that even he approved as they talked it out. Of course, they'd be lucky if the plan lasted five minutes past the first shot, but--that was life. They'd work around it. They always did. 

"I'll pack up the maps, you take Harper down to the armory and kit yourselves out, Kid, we're starting to run low on time. There's a suit down there that ought to fit." 

Dick had wondered why Roy's suit had disappeared, now he knew. "All right." He turned and headed down, feeling Roy's presence at his back seconds later, and he looked over his shoulder. "Thoughts?"

"It's a good plan--which means something is going to go wrong early... and hey, it's one less damned drug dealer. Suits me."

//No it doesn't, it can't... that's not my Roy--(no, this is what you've done to him),// part of his mind pointed out, and he did his best to ignore that thought, tapping out the code to let himself in... and stopped in the doorway, staring at the table. He'd wondered when this day was going to come, when Slade would stop allowing him the freedom of his lover's black and red and demand that he make his allegiance as plain in this as it was in his mind--his black and red was nowhere along the wall, and two piles of blue and orange lay in front of them. 

He walked forward, nothing a pair of hilts beside one pile--that made that one his. He stopped there, hand running over the suit, finding the same feel as ever, and he picked up various pieces, checking to see that everything had gotten moved properly. It was like going back in time to see his suit this brightly colored, and he shook his head, almost laughing--then turned to study his lover, worried.

Roy was studying the other suit as though it might bite him, shoulders and head pulled back. He sighed softly, and reached to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Subtle, he's not, sometimes." Much as he owed Slade (and loved him), he could admit to his faults. And a slight tendency towards... displays... was much in his character. 

"...I never would have guessed, Dick." Roy retorted, hand finally going out to lay over the suit, tapping it lightly. Dick studied it too, seeing the striking similarity to his last costume, and the differences, orange mainly in the accents and extras, not replacing the red--for which he was grateful. They'd both worn some truly garish costumes over the years, but putting that much orange on his carrot-top lover would have just been wrong. He squeezed his shoulder, "Roy, I--"

"Leave it, Dick. I'd rather wear his colors doing this than mine," Roy replied, shaking his head as he picked up the top of the new suit. "Just changing in here?"

"Yeah." If Roy was so determined to do this, he'd damned well stop arguing--he didn't actually want to push his own into enough of a corner that he wound up doing this hit solo. He went back to his suit, stripping out of casual clothes and into gear that caressed his skin like a familiar lover, feel and fit the very same, boots and gloves already loaded--the orange wrapped around his fingers, up his arms and over his chest was disconcerting as he moved, but tolerable. Empty back-sheaths called his attention back to the table, and he studied the objects laying there. Slightly longer than his sticks and single-edged, barely curved lengths of razor-edged steel waited for his touch, and he felt the perfection of the balance the moment his hands wrapped around them. 

//Couldn't have me not using a blade, Slade?// He snorted at the unintentional rhyme and walked the blades over his hands, testing, then settled them into the sheathes where they belonged. He smoothed the mask up over his eyes, and turned to watch Roy finish, seeing the changes Slade had made, the extra spaces for weapons and ammunition... It was hard not to approve of the functionality, and Roy even looked... contented by it. "Not bad. Not half bad," he said, voice low. 

"Y'look pretty damned good," Dick replied--wasn't it the only thing to say?

Roy's eyes finally scanned the rest of the room, rack after rack of ordnance... he whistled, low and harsh; and honestly, Dick agreed. There was enough damned hardware in here to finish a medium-scale war--and all of it was impeccably organized. He picked up a duffle from under the table and moved through the racks, picking out things he needed to restock, and taking a few more... surprises. Some went into spare spaces in his boots, others went into the duffle, and he listened to the sounds of Roy doing much the same. There were things he didn't normally carry that he was going to need for this. Finished, he went to join Roy--just in time to see him pull his hand back from a compact crossbow with a physical wince--and he wrapped around his back, holding him close, butt of a Sig Sauer digging into his hip even through the suit. 

Roy turned in his arms, shaking his head. "I'm okay, Dick. I promise. Let me just finish packing." 

He nodded and let go, trailing his lover through another couple of racks, watching him finish putting everything together.

*~*~*~*

Slade entered the armory to deliver the maps, and paused at the doorway. He could see the young men, but neither had noted him yet. He viewed the way the costumes flowed over their skin, the perfect fit of his own colors on two of the best young heroes of the maturing generation. There was a substantial feeling of pride in that, mixed with the slight pain of knowing it could have been Grant, possibly Joey. Those final thoughts pushed him fully into mission mode. Those colors also meant his reputation on the line, and they had damn well better not wreck that.

"Boys," he called, and both heads turned instantly, blank white mask-eyes lifting to his, Renegade's head tilting curiously. "Maps. Who's carrying?" 

"I've got more space, I think," Renegade volunteered, and he tossed the watertight case to him, watching the quick snap of his wrist to catch it. 

Arsenal shrugged, resettling a Winchester Sharpshooter over his shoulder. A long, sharp look told him the kid hadn't picked up a single weapon that tied into his own heritage--he approved at this point, though the boy was going to need to lose that phobia before things progressed much further. 

"The usual airport, Kid, hangar 4. Get moving." 

"We're ready," his boy nodded and crossed the room to press against him a moment. "We won't disappoint you." 

Slade gripped him by the back of the head, nodding. "Do it right, and you won't."

Flash of that cold, precise smile and Renegade nodded slightly--against that grip, that was all he could do, and Slade let go as Arsenal walked over. He finally truly deserved the name, Slade decided as he merely matched gazes with Arsenal. His eye said it all //watch over him//.

The set of the redhead's jaw and shoulders changed, the look saying, //Did you think I'd change my mind now?// Slade watched his boy notice the exchange and tense, unhappiness in the set of his shoulders, //Oh, you don't like this?// That was a wrinkle he hadn't counted on, and would have to be addressed promptly. Renegade checked everything one last time, then nodded again, starting to grin. 

"We'll see you when we get home. Don't wait up," teasing laughter lit Dick's playful voice before he slipped past him to head out into the hall. Arsenal followed him without another word, and Slade turned to watch them go. 

*~*~*~*

Dick was keeping Roy's attention focused on himself as they moved through the rest of the house, but he couldn't help the instinctive habit of checking every room with an open door, which meant that he saw her and Rose in the living room, apparently working on one of Rose's lessons, given the array of books. He saw her blue eyes widen she took in both of them in Slade's colors, then her face blatantly displayed the pain of losing her brother/son/friend all over again, seeing his full combat regalia. She turned her head away quickly, obviously afraid of letting Roy see her face, and Dick lengthened his stride to get Roy past the door without ever seeing her.

For the first time since the revelation, the very thought of her didn't send him into rage so strong he wanted to hurt something--possibly because he was floored by the realization that he happened to agree with her. How damned disturbing. He shook that off, aided by the fact that some parts of him were entirely pleased with the reminder that Roy'd chosen him--so obviously chosen him. He picked up a set of keys on the way into the garage and popped the trunk open to settle their gear, his blades, and the long gun inside, then slid behind the wheel and headed for the airport, flicking on the radio simply for the amusement of starting a debate about which station to listen to, tinted windows blocking the sight of them. The airport wasn't far. 

*~*~*~*

Dinah's skin crawled as she heard the door close. She had to focus to make herself listen to Rose's question about how the rise of vigilantism had actually led to an increase in violent crimes. All her mind could grasp was that her Roy... the man she had watched a scared, hurting boy grow into... was leaving the house in full kit, with Deathstroke's colors splashed boldly over him and not one of his own weapons in sight. 

"Rose, I know it's class time, but I'm not feeling well," Dinah said, and she was not lying. Her stomach was turning and threatening full rebellion. //He was laughing, wrapped up in Dick, and he was not hesitating.// "Maybe later, I can look over your work."

Rose nodded, lips going narrow. She had spent the night with Dinah, holding the older woman as the vigilante cried and then went stone silent, lost in whatever had happened between her and Roy. Rose had not been able to pry the cause out of her, and it disturbed the teen. She knew the data her father kept on each and every hero, and nothing in his files had suggested such a breakdown was possible.

"I'll finish up, Dinah, and then go make sure Lian is handling her lessons," Rose offered. Dinah flashed her a look of gratitude, as well as one that almost looked like pride. Rose could not help but sit taller, as Dinah silently admired her newfound responsibility to the younger girl.

"Thank you." The blonde rose and made her way back to the bedroom. She had learned it was no longer kept locked at night, and Rose had encouraged her to go outside with her that morning. Still, the room was the only space Dinah saw as hers, even if it was with a feeling akin to being in a cage.

She had just turned into the hall where her room was when Slade stepped into the hall as well, from a room further down. She had not explored the manor much, so she had no idea what was in that room. She just ducked her head to avoid eye contact, and hoped he left her alone. She did not have the energy to fight with him.

"Dinah," he called. "Join me." The voice was neutral, no undercurrents. It still was not the professional bantering tone he had used on their previous encounters, before the world went to hell, but it was not full of that hatred she had discerned since he displayed knowledge of her shame.

"Alright, Wilson." She pulled at the edges of her resolve to get through this, for Lian at least, now that she had lost Roy so completely. She walked down the hall to the man, and tried not to react when he physically turned her to go into the room he had just left. She glanced around, shuddering, as it was a fully equipped infirmary.

"I have an engagement tonight," he began. "And you will assist me in it," he added, watching her closely. She glanced up sharply at him, her eyes flashing with a hint of defiance. It only lasted long enough for her to make eye contact; then the shame and the feeling of being adrift with no anchor clouded her face, and she looked away.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" she asked him, resigned to her fate. It seemed fitting; having failed to stop such an evil thing from happening, that she should wind up a tool to someone so villainous.

//" but I could see in his eyes that he's planning something..."// Roy's words echoed persistently in her ears, reminding her that Slade only played one game; his own, and his involvement with the Society still did not make perfect sense.

"There are always choices." Slade's voice was harsh; there was that anger, the contempt for what the League had done.

"I won't leave Lian to the fate you would give her," Dinah snapped, her old anger rising to the surface. He merely smirked knowingly, a fitting mask for the fact he was pleased to see her still willing to fight.

"Let me see your arm." He held his hand out, indicating she should lie down on the table, so he could inspect it. Dinah stared at the table a long moment before shrugging and climbing onto it. He busied himself silently with cutting off the bulkier cast, inspecting the arm, and then putting a much lighter, but inflexible cast over it. "You need to exercise the hand more," he told her. "Not even a week, and the bruising is almost gone." He turned her face to one side, then the other. "You heal quickly."

"Kind of have to in my business," she said, her tone low and guarded. He turned away, to put his kit away.

"I'm going to Kahndaq today. Business. You are going with me, and you will have to be drugged, under a hypnotic." He found the exact drug he had in mind. "It will bury your conscious will, but leave your mind open to everything you hear and see. I'll get your impressions after it wears off."

"Why?" Her tone was flat with distaste for the plan. "And how susceptible does it make me to suggestion?"

"I'll set the guards, to make you answer only to me. And this way, I can cover a few angles, showing the Society how far I am willing to go." He came back to her side, the drug and a syringe in hand. "And, as you said, I don't want a world crushed in their fist." He took satisfaction in her flinching from his paraphrase. "You have information, impressions that I could utilize. I will take you with me, as a mind-burned trophy, and they will see you exactly that way. None of the telepaths should be there, and this drug could beat most of them."

"Wilson?" Dinah's eyes were troubled as he prepped the syringe. "Tell me one thing. Was it necessary to send my Roy out like that?" Her sudden shift of the subject betrayed both her nervousness and her resignation to doing as he commanded.

Slade studied her a moment, then responded with both questions and answers, in an attempt to learn what exactly she wanted to know. "In my colors? Yes. His equipment? ...Was his choice."

She winced at that, turning her face away rather than let him see the pain in her eyes. "He's going to kill again. Just like his father..." Her voice was soft, a regretful whisper. //So much blood and it's our fault.//

"You say that as though death's the worst thing that could happen to someone, Dinah... and we both know better than that... Or at least, I thought you did, once." His tone snapped her head around, showing him the tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, refusing to be shed.

"Is it so much, Wilson, to want better for our children than what we've done or seen? I can't for the life of me see you as having wished blood to ever have crossed your younger son's hands, from all I ever heard of him!" she shot back.

His entire body tensed, hand tightening... but he stopped himself, reminding himself he didn't want her bruised tonight, and that this was a parent fighting for her child. "I didn't," his voice dark and cold as arctic night. "With the world you've helped create, Lance, I don't think 'better' is an option." She noted the change to her family name, and it seemed to have an honest effect as she reached out, touching his hand.

"Sorry...Wil... Slade. That was low, even from me." She kept her voice soft, more human. "I shouldn't have mentioned Joseph."

He let her hand connect, almost despite himself, single eye utterly cold. "No. You shouldn't have."

She let her hand fall, even as she looked down. "I can't say I won't let my mouth get the better of me in the future, but I'll try to be more decent than that." She clenched a fist, holding up her arm. She would not ask him for his word, to make sure he was going to protect her, not after what she had just done. She would just have to blindly trust than when the drug wore off, she would still be herself, and under his roof. 

Slade studied her, saw all that bravado for the show it was, and his hand was almost gentle as he started to slip the syringe into her arm, holding her in place with his other hand... and if something in his touch was possessive... there was reason. Despite all that had happened, despite her long silence, she was his responsibility now, had been since he chose her to be mother to his two girls, and he would not allow harm to come to her. It would upset too many of his new family, even Rose, who honestly liked the blonde as a teacher.

Dinah felt the burn in her vein, tried to fight it on a level that she could not control. Since she had beaten Savant, she had not felt helpless. Even here in Slade's household, she knew she had a choice, even if it meant dying. Now, though, knowing on a gut level that a man, even one with a code as strict as Bruce's, was going to have complete control over her, she felt fear. It was a cold thought and made the drug burn that much hotter in her vein, as she closed her eyes, swaying slightly. She was already fogging out when his hand slipped to the back of her head, drawing her forward to rest against his chest. His low voice penetrated the fog covering her mind, planting deep hypnotic suggestions, setting her up as the perfect living recorder while protecting her from seeming like a threat to the allies he wanted to learn more about.

*~*~*~*~*

Roy settled back against the plush leather seats, trying to ignore the little, panicking voice that hadn't shut up since he'd picked up the armor he now wore, the one that was screaming about things they didn't do, and Dinah, and the line he was about to cross again. He'd decided already, there was no point in freaking out about it. Lian was perfectly safe--at least for now; Ollie--he couldn't think about the man that had raised him without remembering Dinah's broken voice--could handle himself; the Titans by this point would be a force to reckon with, safe together; and if he left Dick alone like this, no matter what happened he'd never forgive himself. Slade didn't have the best record with his kids, and he couldn't lose the man that had held his heart for most of the last decade. There was still too much of Robbie in Dick to abandon him, too much of that laughing confidence coming back into his eyes and voice as the days ran on--he wasn't letting go. Not that there was any chance he could get out of Slade's home unnoticed anyway, and the threat that Slade would make Dick kill him for the betrayal still made his blood run cold. Slade was cold enough to follow through, and what that would do to Dick... No. Not ever, and if that meant getting more blood on his hands--at least it was just some Colombian coke dealer, someone more than worth the bullet. 

He deliberately didn't look around--he didn't really want to know where Slade had secreted them, just in case he got to close to a telepath--and managed to win the radio argument, talking to Dick idly as he drove until they turned into the airport and pulled into the hangar. //Cesna, not enough fuel capacity to make the whole trip, we're going to have to stop. Where? Not my problem,// he reminded himself, shrugging it off. 

Dick parked the car in a corner of the hangar and they slid out and went for their gear, then walked to the jet, stairs already in place. They were met by the pilot, shown into the back with very few words exchanged, and then they were in motion and in the air. 

As soon as they leveled out, Dick was up and moving, prowling the area like a cat. A very angry cat, Roy amended his thought, and got up to step into Dick's path. "Flyboy. Come on, stop this." 

"Damnit, Roy, I wanted you safe." 

"Telling me I'm not safe at your side?" Roy tilted his head, one brow arching behind the unfamiliar mask he wore, abandoning logic to slug his lover in the emotional guts. He didn’t feel like spending the next however-many hours in an another fight with him.

"That's not what I meant!" He could practically feel the heat of Dick's glare through the lenses, "It just... I chose this, you didn't get t--"

"I asked Slade for this, Dick. My choice, just like yours--"

"Why?" So much confusion in that one word, none of which made any sense. 

"I told you why. I. am not. going. to lose you, and I don't want you pulling this alone. Too damned many things could go wrong." //Did you forget how to listen at some point, Dick? I'd swear I said that earlier... You protected me, Dick, and I know what Slade made you pay for it... My turn to have your back.//

He could see Dick's eyes widen behind the mask, watched him start to say something and stop again, and waited him out. Finally, "Roy, I--all right. I'll calm down, if this was your idea."

"It was," Roy replied, not wanting to get into the details, and the answer was true enough. 

That finally made Dick sit back down, and Roy dropped along with him, leaning for the array of maps. They might as well make good use of this damned long flight. 

*~*~*~*

Black Adam had been surprised when Deathstroke indicated he was coming early, and that he had a guest. He activated the transporters, and raised one eyebrow at the man as he appeared. He recognized the 'guest' instantly, but also saw that she was not in her right mind, from the way she held onto Slade's arm. Slade had taken the time to dress Dinah in a formal dress, making her seem very much the drape he needed her to look like.

"Consorting with the enemy, Slade?" he asked. 

"Merely a trophy, from my hunt to deflect the Oracle," Slade said smoothly. "She's mindless now, an unfortunate side effect of the treatments I used to gain what information I could. Apparently their telepath had instilled certain protocols in her mind."

"A shame. But still, she represents a deep psychological blow." Black Adam nodded. "It must be why I've heard no rumor yet. They know she is one of the few who links into almost every team the so-called heroes have." He quirked one eyebrow at her as she stumbled slightly stepping down with Slade, noting that the man helped her find her balance. "Do you wish to leave her here? I know you will have assumed responsibility over her, but my lands are secure."

"Thank you, but no... I have uses for her." His tone was dark, and Black Adam had to look askance at his guest.

"Enlighten me, friend."

"I did learn the truth of our 'friend' Light's encounter with the League." Deathstroke's voice slid around the words with both contempt and menace. "I think you should hear the tale I took from her."

Black Adam glanced around, and nodded, leading Deathstroke to his office. When the door shut, Slade took a chair, while Dinah stood at his shoulder, resting her hands on it. Black Adam noted the slim cast, noted the completely vapid gaze that turned his way and shivered. The idea that he League could do that to protect their secrets chilled even him. 

"Light was on that satellite, and events did transpire as he remembered," Slade began, abruptly. "But you and I have certain guidelines on who the rightful opponents are." He clenched a fist, remembering the sheer rage he had felt, to know what he had protected. "He was there, alone with Sue Dibny. That is why they came hunting Light in face of her death."

Black Adam frowned slowly. "He... was alone, with the woman recently murdered?"

"From what Canary admitted, it was his brutal rape of her that drove the League to take their actions." He raised a hand to forestall the inevitable dialogue of that not making it right. "I still say the League can rot in hell. Specifically, their witch and Hawkman, from what I learned. The Atom and the former Flash both had a hand in pushing it that far, as well." 

"The one who died?" Black Adam clarified. "That fits with what we know." His visage was stormy. "I do not like protecting rapists. I despise working with that psychotic little midget, and now to learn our opening gambit was made to protect a cowardly rapist."

Slade leaned forward, causing Dinah's hands to move to her sides. "I do not like it either. And it makes me wonder if Luthor knows..." He sat back, and let Dinah rest her hand back on his shoulder. 

"We should find out exactly who knew, and deal with them, to let it be known we do not tolerate such... filth." Black Adam was quite disgusted. 

"Dear Teth, you think too straight-forwardly." Slade smiled at the man with a glint in his eye. Black Adam paused, and came to sit on the front of his desk. 

"Do tell." The nigh-immortal man was more than willing to match plans with the mercenary whose code of honor and sense of ethics paralleled his in many ways.

*~*~*~*~*

The appearance of the Black Canary as Deathstroke's trophy and drape had an odd power over the assembled crowd of the Society's higher echelons. On one hand, it explained the sudden dispelling of the Birds of Prey from Metropolis, and the reported downtime of Oracle's communications. There were some who still believed Black Canary had been Oracle, based on her surrender to Blockbuster a few years before. There were far too many who watched with predatory interest; her years of being a hero had made her cross a lot of paths.

Slade mingled with the guests, pleased that his command to Dinah to always stay in touch was working. He had no doubt he would hear mouthfuls from her about the meetings, as Talia could not contain her gloating, and Calculator studied her like a living specimen for dissection. Luthor barely noted her.

"Did you know, when you took that contract, what it would do to the other teams?" he demanded of Slade, his demeanor radiating a barely contained anger.

"Yes." Deathstroke had known every single connection each life he executed held. "I supposed you did too, and ordered it for the chaos it would reap." Very neatly, he turned the blame back to Luthor. "Besides, I've given them a scapegoat for the matter. They hunt Cheshire now." He caught a small flicker of something in the man's eye, and it drove him to consider what game the man was playing with him.

"Next time, consider it part of the retainer fee to tell me of complications you foresee," Luthor growled, stalking off with Talia.

//Not on your life.// Deathstroke was not a lackey, even when paid, and Luthor needed to be reminded of that.

*~*~*~*

Roy swore mentally as once again Dick was in his way, blocking his shot--if it wasn't one of them, it was the other, it seemed. He'd screwed up one of Dick's attacks by being too far behind, they'd had a complete misread of each other that nearly let one of the house guards get to a comm. and now Dick was blocking him... The tide of anger probably wasn't making things any better, but...

...this just wasn't good. They were managing, somehow pulling it together enough to control the situation by desperate effort and improvised recoveries, but they were out of synch and misreading each other--and it was entirely his fault, he knew it was. He'd never been as fast as Dick, but Renegade was ten steps ahead of him now, not just a half-step--and he'd never managed to work well with Wally, for just that reason. He wasn't like Dinah in that, of all the lessons she'd taught him that wasn't one of them, and it showed. He just wasn't keeping up, couldn't managed the logical leaps that Renegade and Ravager seemed to thrive on... The worst part was, Dick had realized it, too, and was trying to slow down his lightning-fast mind--which was the last thing they needed. Dick ought to be exploiting the serum, milking it for all it was worth, not hobbling himself to let his partner try and keep up...

He made it to Renegade's side, scanning the corridor, running the blueprint through his head--and Dick moved before he was ready, leaving him to cover his back instead of work beside him... that stung, but he checked the clips of his guns and followed, guarding Dick as best he could with the synchronicity between them so utterly mauled. 

*~*~*~*

/Fuck, this isn't working,// Renegade swore with his back against a wall, waiting with a lifted hand for the guard to finish his sweep and head back down. Long moments of not-breathing, then he moved, fast, getting inside their target's bedroom door, having to trust that Roy could make sure they stayed unnoticed. 

It was a miracle every alarm in the place hadn't already gone off, with the way they kept screwing each other up--and the more he tried to compensate, the more he tried to slow his mind back to the pre-serum levels, the worse things got. They were off and it wasn't getting better, and he was too damned busy right now to figure out a fix, that was going to have to wait. //I don't know what to do, slowing down's just part of the problem, I almost think I'd be better off running solo...// He pulled a blade as he entered the room, disposable blank high-carbon steel, mass-produced throwing blade in every knife-shop on the planet. He checked the mental portrait of the target against the physical features of the man before him, and one hard throw embedded the blade hilt-deep between the sleeping man's ribs. He snapped a quick series of pictures with a hidden camera, then turned away.

The cartel might have preferred a messier, agonizing death, but he wasn't a torturer and couldn't stand the thought of becoming one--and Slade had laid no stipulations on the manner of his death, would not agree to that one... It was done. No sense in fighting their way back out of the house, not when the man had a balcony beyond sliding doors. He stuck his head back out the door, beckoning Roy in as he went to unlock the door, and he heard him behind him a few moments later. He finished bypassing the security on the door and pushed it open. He crossed the balcony swiftly and dropped to the ground, Roy hitting a few moments later, and they both broke for the dark safety of the treeline--still on the same wavelength about that, at least. 

It was going to be a looong damned flight home, with Roy this upset--hell, with his own temper this triggered.

*~*~*~*

Roy'd pretended to sleep for most of the trip back--and had even slept some--curled against Dick's body despite the helpless anger he couldn't get under control. He was fairly certain Dick hadn't slept either, despite the exhaustion they were both feeling. He kept turning the events over in his mind, looking for the details of how each move had gone wrong... and the answer was the same, over and over again. He couldn't keep up with the way Dick was thinking anymore, the bond between them that had always allowed them to work so well off each other was frayed apart by that change... and Dick couldn't be the one to fix it. He'd paid too dearly for that enhancement to cripple himself now. 

That only left one choice...

...but could he stand to make it? 

//Look at what you've already done, Harper,// part of him said as he carefully settled the Winchester in the truck, duffle dropped beside it. //You know at least two people died from your shots tonight, on one of Deathstroke's contracts. You've already agreed to teach his equally sociopathic daughter the finer points of killing, and you helped him break Dinah... How exactly is this worse?// 

//It's... not me. I'm pure human, always have been, and gods know my history with drugs... Not that this is the same thing--am I really considering this?!// He settled back against the leather, wincing against harsh morning light as Dick headed them home, arm thrown over his eyes... and the answer echoed through him. 

//Yes.// He was. He wasn't leaving Dick--as if he could and live, now?--wasn't about to let Slade get him killed, and they had to be back in synch before they went out again, before the disconnect between them got one of them killed... He stared at the back of his arm, at the blue armor and the orange--and the certainty of what he was going to do slashed through him. //Hm... wonder what I can win from this devil's bargain,// he thought, and rode in quiet silence until Dick parked the car and slid out, moving with anger coiled low in his spine instead of the usual spring--Dick was rarely that obvious, this was riding him hard... And that was a dangerous thing--he'd seen what could happen when Renegade was riding fury too high. Lady Vic came to mind. 

It was odd how much unpacking gear and stripping out of the suits felt like coming home to the Titans, something that could so easily become routine... He slid into the shower behind Dick like after so many missions, kissing along his throat, hands sliding over him until Dick snapped and pinned him to the wall, tongue deep in his mouth. He arched into every touch, whispering to Dick about love and need and hunger, answering Dick's desperate, possessive ferocity with everything he had to give, finally left bruised and aching in the best possible ways as they tried to beat the end of the heater's capacity out of the shower--and failed. Cold spray--god, how many times had that happened--broke some of the tension between them and he laughed as they dove out of the shower and dressed, happy to see his lover's eyes dancing. He kissed Dick goodbye as his lover headed up to report to Slade, and went to play with his daughter. 

He put Lian down for a nap and sat there watching her, toying with a pen and a sheet of paper, trying to figure out what to say to the woman that had always been his hero. They... weren't talking--he wasn't ready to talk to her again, but he couldn't take this risk without telling her something... //How can you take this risk at all, Harper? Are you really going to risk leaving Lian all alone?//

That stopped him for a moment, then he shook his head. //It's no different a risk than I take every time I walk out the door on a mission. I could have died last night just as easily as this could make me insane. If something happens--if Slade even agrees to try it, he might say no--Dinah will get Lian out and take care of her. I know she will. Slade'll have to leave sometime.// 

Finally he started writing, just letting the words come out of his hand. Finished, he tri-folded it and wrote her name across the back, hoping he'd told her enough to make her understand, and carried it up to his room to tuck into the case of the guitar. Dick wouldn't see it there, and Slade would know where it was. 

He went by the gym long enough to see Dick fighting sleep to get Rose through some gymnastic sequence he wanted her to learn, and then went looking for Slade. That didn't take long, given that the man was in the hall between the kitchen and his office. "Slade."

"Yes, Harper?"

"I need to talk to you." 

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Privately?" He watched Slade's expression shift a moment, then the man nodded and went back towards the office. He followed, and shut the door behind them, then looked up at Slade, green eyes dark. "Did Dick tell you how much things went wrong, or did he gloss stuff over?"

The way that single blue eye narrowed and his lips set told Roy all he needed to know, and he sighed. "He glossed. And I just got him in trouble. Damn." He shook his head. "I thought he'd gotten over the 'can't admit I've got a problem until I've also got the solution'-thing..." Highly annoyed mutter. "Anyway. You need to know that... Things didn't go smoothly. We kept getting in each other's way--we never used to, but I can't keep up with him, he's just thinking too damned fast, too far ahead of me... By the time I knew what he was doing, he was expecting me to be at the next step. He started trying to slow down, handicapping himself, and that just put things in more jeopardy--not that we were ever in danger of screwing up the contract, it was just... we didn't work right. Not like we used to." 

"And?" The voice was ice-cold; despite assurances of the contract not being in danger, that was his livelihood, his reputation at stake, and Roy knew it.

Roy winced at the ice in his voice, and it was a struggle to force the next words out. "And that means something's got to change. I dunno, maybe Dick and I could train ourselves back into synch, but I never did work well with Fleetfeet..." Sure, the serum hadn't made Dick a speedster, but it had jumped his brain into that kind of overdrive.

"Spit it out, Harper; at one point did this become my problem, when I can just make you stay here, or send you out on separate work?" The blue eye was narrow, lines of annoyance in his face. 

"It's your problem because Dick doesn't handle solo work well... and there's a better option, if you think I can survive it." He couldn't believe he'd said it like that, but it was true...

The face smoothed, as Slade's mind made the jump to what Harper was not directly saying. He studied the redhead a long moment, then gave a sharp nod. "I've refined it, as best I can, and Dick did not truly have a problem. You're not that far from his level, just in different areas. Hell, Harper, you're verging meta already with that aim, but I think you might be rock solid enough to handle it."

Roy couldn't help a bitter laugh. "Rock solid? Me? Now, maybe... I've at least got the stubbornness is spades. All right." //Did Deathstroke really just compliment me? Is the sky falling?// He watched Slade, trickle of unease in his mind despite the man's confidence. He well remembered what had happened with Addie and Grant, remembered when Rose's eyes, plural, sparkled with gentle joy--but there had been mitigating factors there. Addie'd had the original, Grant had already been crazy, and Jericho--//god, Joey//--had overdosed Rose, deliberately making her insane. In contrast, Dick had come through it just fine. He simply had to trust that Slade would make equally certain that he received the right dose. //Slade won't screw up. Dick would never forgive him.//

"Harper, you've survived everything the bitch in green could throw your way; that takes some doing." Slade gave another sharp nod. "Got anything you need to do?"

Roy spent a moment wondering if Slade was insulting Jade or Ollie, but put it out of his mind. //See? I'll come out of this fine. I've got too damned much to live for to let anything beat me. Got to cover all the bases, though.// "Did it already. Slade... just in case. There's a letter in the guitar case, if I don't... Give it to Dinah?"

Slade frowned, and Roy wasn't sure why, but then he nodded briefly. "Sure thing, Harper." The big man moved, and Roy watched as he flicked a monitor on. //Oh. Something about Dinah,// he realized as he saw her stretched out on the bed, apparently asleep in a dress he didn't recognize and didn't think she ever would have picked. "Let's get it done, then." He headed for the door, and Roy trailed him. "If you don't, kid... I'll handle it." 

Roy nodded. "Thanks. That's not going to happen, though." There really wasn't much else to be said. He followed, letting Slade lead the way down into the infirmary, and simply hopped up onto a table, toeing his shoes off, watching Slade. 

The mercenary walked to a safe, opening it and pulling out a small vial. He returned, rolling it to warm it, and then got a syringe. 

//Needles. Goddamned needles again, thought I was through shoving poison in my veins...// Roy thought, trying to keep the thought out of his eyes, sudden flash of apprehension about his choice... but his earlier reasoning came back strongly. //This isn't poison. It's not something I'm going to start craving or get addicted to. It's just an advantage. One-time only thing--and it's not going to drag me down, or turn me into that wasted thing Dinah pulled me away from. The only thing the smack and this have in common is the damned needle. Slade wanted me to step up... I think this counts.// He swallowed hard, then lay back, arm turned to offer it to Slade. 

Slade paused, his eye locking on Roy's face. "One way street, kid, and I know it's not for everyone. You better be damn sure you're this willing to follow my boy."

Roy shut his eyes, then opened them and nodded. "I'm his, and this is what I've got to be to keep up with him. Do it, before I lose my nerve."

Slade took a moment to ready the syringe, then very professionally prepped Roy's arm. His eyebrow went up a moment at seeing the scarring there. However, he apparently chose not to mention anything, as he slid the needle into the vein.

Roy just looked back at him, keeping his expression very carefully blank to keep the shame and regret out of them... then liquid fire lanced up his arm, shot through him--and mercifully, sent him straight into black unconsciousness. 

*~*~*~*

Slade slipped the needle out carefully and placed the kid's arm gently on the table, studying the old, faded track-marks with narrowed eyes. //Knew you'd had it rough, kid, but I missed this somehow...// The only answer was that it had happened even before he became involved with the Titan's lives, or he would have known. //If you could kick that habit, you'll come through this fine. It explains the issues you and Queen have with pushers, and that comment of yours about that job quite nicely.// That was one small mystery solved.

The mercenary knew Roy would probably prefer to wake up to Dick, but he did not want anything going wrong in that situation. He cleared the tools away into locked drawers, double checked that the room was clean from things to easily hurt people with, and got the restraints out. As they were made to hold him down //Wintergreen, you always did plan best// they would keep Harper in check once the serum had finished remaking him.

*~*~*~*

Dinah groaned softly as she came to, a blinding headache the only real indication of her experience. She sat up, finding herself on the bed in her room, wearing a dress she knew she did not remember as being in her closet. She shivered just a bit, knowing he was responsible for her clothes, yet again. She wondered if it was some perverse payback for her field stripping him on the Dino Island.

Slowly, as she removed the dress and ran a shower, she started recalling the events of the night, right up to him bringing her home and telling her to sleep. Slade had protected her, had even physically intimidated Count Vertigo into not staring at her like she was the next entrée on the menu. That was food for thought as she went to wrap the plastic bag around her broken arm. She stopped short, seeing the cast Slade had just put on there was gone, and the arm, though paler and starting to be less defined, looked as whole as her other one. She had to fight through the various images swimming in her brain to find the point where the Crime Doctor had used her to test some technology that had fallen into his hands. Her mind recognized it as Thanagarian, even as her recollection showed her Slade hovering menacingly as the Crime Doctor used the bonesetter to fix the double break in her arm.

This recollection pushed her to filter through the images more, to try and sort them all out. She went over the events of the night, taking pleasure in knowing that Slade had secured an ally to keep the Society on a tether, in the form of Black Adam. She had read the JSA reports on his attempts to reform, and could almost understand his position on what he had done for Kahndaq. She did not approve the methods, but she understood the motive.

As she scrubbed her skin almost violently, trying to erase the psychic stink of being around so many villains, she flashed over the conversation with Luthor. The bath sponge fell from her hand with a sudden flash of inspiration as she replayed it in her head, rewound through trying to watch him for much of the rest of the night. Even under Slade's drug, her subconscious had seen something, and now she had to follow up on it. She just…did not think she could handle going back to Slade, not after taunting him with his dead son, and then seeing how vigilantly he had shielded her from his allies. Like it or not, and knowing good and damn well Dick knew by now what she had done, the young man was her only choice. 

She slid out of the shower, pulling a towel over her skin briskly, then brushing her hair out and leaving it to dry naturally. She drew her towel around her to go find something to put on, searching all the drawers until she came up with a pair of drawstring shorts //his again... bastard must be getting a laugh out of knowing I have to wear his clothes to be comfortable// and a large sweatshirt. She did not look threatening, she decided, looking in the mirror, ad she did not look like she was trying to get over on anyone, either. All she had to do was make Dick see they had a problem, and maybe he would let her live in one piece. 

Dick was well towards exhausted at this point, pushing himself to stay awake until it was time to sleep again, despite the recent lack. He'd just sent Rose off to shower, and was starting to wonder where Roy'd gotten off to. He'd seen him in the doorway a while ago...

He glanced up to see Dinah in casual work out attire, just clearing the doorjamb. "Grayson, I need to talk to you." She kept her voice level, using her most professional tone.

His lips set thin, sharp retort springing instantly to mind, but he tempered it. He knew the sound of Oracle's operative when she spoke. He cut off every thought of Babs, and made an attempt at keeping his anger with her in check. "Lance, what can you possibly think we need to talk about?"

"You... employer's allies." Her eyes were troubled. "Tell me, have you actually been around Luthor since coming to work for Slade?" She said the man's first name easily, without any trace of her usual annoyance, without the inflections she usually said his last name in. "Been around him at all?"

"No. I haven't been near the Society. Why?" She sighed in aggravation as she tried to find the words to explain what, to her, was strictly a gut feeling.

"I hoped you had. I know you have encountered him more recently than me, and that you have seen him when out of costume." She sat down on one of the small chairs, backwards, and crossed her arms over its back. "Slade took me to Kahndaq today."

Now that had Dick's attention. "Why take you? And how?" That didn't make sense. He finally processed the lack of a cast on her arm and realized Slade must have had her healed... how in God's name had he gotten them both back out of that nest of vipers safely? "More importantly, what's bothering you about Luthor?" 

"He dismissed me, immediately. As if I was nobody. He did not know that the contract against…" She had to swallow hard; Jenny had been like a cousin. "That taking the Oustiders down would hit the rest of us…the rest of the heroes so hard."

"That's not Luthor." The flat statement came hard on the heels of her words, and if he felt anything about her change of phrase, it didn't show on his face. "He knows better than to dismiss your presence... Are you certain he didn't realize? Or is it that he did not care?"

Dinah concentrated, her eyes closing as she realized the imagery was sharper, likely from whatever drug Slade had given her. "He said, 'Did you know, when you took that contract, what it would do to the other teams?' to Slade." She bit her lip for a moment. "He was not...right. Not from my limited knowledge of him."

There was a long, long pause before he answered her. "Let's sit, Lance. That's not like Luthor. He knows too much to make that kind of a mistake--and would never admit it..."

"Luthor's been controlled before," Dinah said. "I've seen files. But he seemed very much his own man." She shuddered, then eased her back by leaning against the chair more. "Talia was on his arm. Is it possible the witch has somehow influenced him? She was running his company? And she has reason to dismiss me. But no, she'd know the connections from Outsiders to the others. She's got Br--she had the Bat Computer files as of a few years ago."

"...She could be, I suppose, but you're right. She would have known, as well... There's something very, very strange here."

"Get Slade to let you be near Luthor," Dinah pressed. "You've had far more dealings with him than I have. You'll be able to tell if I'm onto something or being paranoid."

He nodded once. "I'll work on it--I'd rather be safe than sorry--Hope and Mercy, Canary. Were Hope and Mercy there?" He'd come up against those two too damned many times to ever disregard them.

She closed her eyes again, remembering every trick her father had ever taught her for remembering a scene without having truly looked at it. "No, nowhere in my sight, all night long."

"...Now I know there's something wrong here. They're fanatical about his safety, what it would take to make them leave him..." 

"In the middle of that den of thieves, at that." She shivered as she met his gaze. "I think Slade's been played. That man...he's not Luthor, or not Luthor in his right mind. Either way, any contract Slade has with him..."

 

He nodded once, sharply, hearing what she wasn't saying. He thought about that, wondering how and why this would have happened, and realization dawned. "Slade's never spent that much time around Luthor--our dear ex -President wouldn't want the association leaking out... I'll talk to him. If you're right--and your reasoning seems sound--we've got a problem. Luthor's bad enough, someone with the balls to impersonate him, and less knowledge of the tensions?" He looked almost sickened, and very, very worried. 

She nodded. "Someone like that, manipulating villains and heroes alike, Grayson." She hugged herself tight. "We... my team, we screwed up in the worst way. But for someone to take that and use it, to get the world's worst cases together... what’s been promised? What goal is he looking at? There are pieces missing, pieces Slade might have, but he needs these pieces too…the knowledge you and I have."

"When you're right, you're right," he agreed. "That's the real question. Luthor I could believe was doing this for protection. Now? What are we missing?"

"I can't see protection, not after the man squandered his hold on the presidency to try and settle one stupid, obsessive score with Superman," she told him. "The Luthor who fought the League to a standstill on several occasions never considered that he could be hurt. By anything."

"Phrased that one badly." Dick said, shaking his head in negation. "Not protection for himself, but to create a detente between the heroes and villains, with him pulling the strings." 

She winced. "You think more clearly than me...too used to letting..." She cut herself off, kept from mentioning Oracle's guidance. "Where is the profit? This detente is making life a tight squeeze for everyone, and the world of civilians is useless if half those psychotics come out on top. Luthor would not want to rule and empty world."

"I've never been sure of that," he replied to her last, then nodded. "That's always the question, isn't it? 'Who profits?' First maxim of detective work--and we've all missed it." 

Her blue eyes matched his. "Gr..Dick... I want to see a world where things are right again. And right now, no one is going to profit, because I can only see this coming to a very large, nasty blowout."

He nodded, not reacting to the use of his name. They'd been friends, once, and she was under a great deal of stress. "I hear you, Dinah. I hear you." 

She stood slowly, her eyes very calmly flicking over the camera. She had aired her thoughts, knowing Slade would weigh them, but also gotten another great mind working on them. "Thank you for listening." 

He shrugged a shoulder, accepting and dismissing the thanks. He wasn't, actually, stupid enough to disregard her concerns simply because he was angry. She repressed her sigh; she knew he would never forgive her, never be able to look at her without that undercurrent of anger. Still, they both knew how to work with people they hated; Guy had taught her that skill years ago. She left him alone, going to the kitchen to see if Slade kept ice cream in his house, in need of comfort food.


	18. Requiem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Titans' reactions

The knock at his door roused the water dweller from a much-needed rest. His glance at the clock told him it had been only a few hours since he left Raven, his body protesting the need to leave the water he had been soaking in. 

"Better be..." His muttered imprecation fell away as he opened the door and Wally was standing there. So much ached to be said, so many words about having not been there, about having moved on with their lives.

"Garth..." Wally tried to find the right words, but instead, he slumped into his friend's arms, and both gave into the pain of losing everyone all over again. It would be a long night as the former Aqualad and Kid Flash tried to find the strength to be the leaders that the Titans needed.

Leaders like Dick had always been.

*~*~*~*

Raven watched the Titans leave, the hand hidden by her cape clenched into a fist, nails cutting into her palm. She wanted to go with them, wanted so badly to be at the service for her soul's sister--but even the Titans' emotions this early, early morning had nearly been too much. 

Every one of them had had their own rituals of cleaning and polishing and double-checking, overlain with so much grief and savage desire to be strong, to honor their own... The surges of grief and anger as boots and bracers and weapons were polished, the blank determination as carefully-steadied hands finished the final touches of grooming had swamped her, forcing her to go far out to sea to calm herself before her dark side could take hold--there was no way she could stand the added grief and rage of several dozen heroes. Not when even her own team was too much. She would not disrupt Kory's farewell, not as she had disrupted-- 

She stopped the thought, forced it back, could not finish it, and she brushed her fingers against the corner of her eye with a slow, deep breath. Victor had promised to relay every moment... that would have to be enough. The jet left, and she turned to go back inside, forcing herself to focus. The world didn't stop turning, no matter who fell, or how much it hurt, and there were monitors to watch... and promised aid available should anything occur. 

*~*~*~*

Batman touched the jet down on the roof of what had been the Outsiders' Headquarters and slipped out, Huntress joining him a moment later. She had, thankfully, remained rather quiet on the journey up. Of course, she too had been an Outsider, no matter how briefly, and her own team was shattered, hard on the heels of their recent victory--apparently even Helena had been subdued by the combination. Batgirl had chosen to remain in Gotham, given the distance of her connection to anyone involved and the fact that it was quite likely the villains--//and what were they all planning?//--would attempt something remarkably foolish, with the hero community so distracted. He took some very faint pleasure in the fact that it would be a very bad day to do so, given the presence of a full quarter of the Green Lantern Corps within Earth's atmosphere. The combination of Jordan's force of personality and Alan's loss had apparently been enough to bring them in, and he knew their plan. They were making roving sweeps through the atmosphere, rings scanning, attention turned on the cities and countries denuded of their protectors. Any trouble... would be very swiftly dealt with. 

He fired a line into the late morning sky, and Huntress followed him into the air. It was a brilliantly clear morning, bright and warm--absolutely unfitting for the day's events, and for himself. He preferred to remain on the edges of these events... but that was impossible this time, as impossible as allowing anyone else to inform their families had been.

Huntress left him at a corner, swinging down to meet those heroes that had already arrived--and he continued on, slipping quietly through an upper-level access into the church proper. He had to be here, yet there were limits to how visible he could be, especially given the current situation within Gotham. Circulating among the others in full view of the civilian populace... did not fit those limits. He would wait for them within. 

He paused in a small doorway, the heavy floral scent powerful in the air from the solid wall of floral arrangements already present. Someone had had a fine hand in arranging them, he noticed--and even he was taken back by the set of portraits displayed within the flowers. It was a logical choice, with the caskets sealed closed, but no one was going to be able to look anywhere else.... He recognized the one of Starfire instantly--a smaller copy had hung in Dick's room for years, from one of her earliest modeling contracts. 

//Dick... son. Where are you?// the thought lashed through him again, as it had so many times since Dick had vanished from the Titans, the Outsiders, Bludhaven, and Gotham, and he forced it aside again. There were other things to focus on, this day. 

He did not recognize the spray of flowers across her coffin, they seemed purely... unearthly. //They must be,// he realized, //her garden must have been in flower.// Fitting... but agonizing for whichever Titan had taken care of it. Jade's portrait--he knew that style, Alan had chosen Kyle's work... and he wondered if the young man would be able to handle this day. The photograph of Shift, displayed behind an urn by necessity, was not one he knew, nor was the picture of Grace--but someone with an excellent eye had caught her power and barely-leashed aggression. Anissa's picture appeared to be her graduation portrait, and he took a low, hard breath, knowing what that must have cost Jefferson. She'd still been so young. 

The sound, slight as it was, had caught the attention of one the four heroes standing guard over their fallen. Zauriel's wings opened wider as he turned, and the angel of the Eagle Host's eyes were dangerous before recognition dawned. "Batman," he said, and Vixen, Icemaiden and Steel turned to look, each of them taking just enough time to acknowledge him before returning to their vigil. 

"Zauriel." 

"Is there any word on this?" the angel asked, hand turned towards the caskets to make his question clear. Batman walked over, shaking his head slightly.

"Very little. The villains are moving in groups, under the auspice of this new 'Society', which has made it difficult to... acquire any information. Those that would know... are too well protected." 

It was a very different world than the one Sue had been killed in. Then, they'd been able--fruitless though the interrogations had been--to catch those possibly involved and demand answers... now, almost all attempts were blocked by the fact that anyone of a caliber to know details of the Outsiders' deaths was traveling with companions, when and if they surfaced at all. It did not help that the League was still fracturing, pulling apart as hero after hero learned what had been done. Even he was unsure who had first added the whisper of what had been done to him--and the fact that more than a few of the heroes were, 'taking his side', so to speak, was... unsettling to the man that used fear so effectively upon fellow hero and villain alike. 

"How... displeasing." Bruce nodded once, agreement in the set of his body. It was... frustrating in the extreme. 

"Gypsy spotted Cheshire in Cairo yesterday and attempted to contain her, but was foiled by Deadshot and an unknown. All three have disappeared again."

Zauriel frowned, but said nothing, and Batman stood with the angel in silence, considering the patterns developing and how to stop his mad creation until the doors opened and he slipped away into the shadows, watching as the heroes came in group by group. Four groups of six came in first, and the dynamics would have startled civilians... but the hero teams guarded and honored their own. 

The sight of the original Flash and Wildcat among the pallbearers raised concern in Batman's mind, but he knew their loyalty to Alan demanded it. Following them came the bearer of both the cosmic rod and the cosmic belt, Stargirl, paired with STRIPE. The final two of the JSA to come were the Thunderbolt, managing to look close to Johnny Thunder's suited appearance, though his fifth dimension energy was readily apparent, and Sand. It crossed his mind that neither Mr. Terrific nor Dr. Midnite was among their honor guard.

Six Titans followed them, and Batman could easily see the determination in each of their faces. Cyborg's very stillness said volumes to him of the strain the Titan's current leader was fighting. Jesse Quick //back in the suit? What has happened there?// walked beside him, Red Star and Pantha following them, even the feral woman looking... stoic. Tempest, somber in red and black and Wonder Girl, her chin up defiantly as she walked with them, filled out that group. Interesting choices, he noted, and wondered how the Titans had decided. 

Geo-Force, Halo, Katana, Atomic Knight, Technocrat, Faust... most of his one-time team followed the Titans, back together for Jefferson's sake, and Captain Marvel, Jr., walked beside them. Some guilt was riding that young man, it was in the set of his shoulders as he moved with the elder heroes. 

The final group, however, startled him. Guy Gardner, Kon-El, Major Disaster, Power Girl, the elder Hourman... //Most of the party crowd. Suitable for Choi, from what I know of her--// but Connor Hawke was in their midst, strangely... //Harper.// That made perfect sense, though he had not thought Connor would be willing to leave both his father and best friend. 

The bishop walked behind the pallbearers and took the dais, turning to wait--and Batman was rather certain that the man had never in his life had such a challenge as the building of this service. He hoped the priest did well, for all of their sakes. 

Alan and Molly were the first to come in, with Obsidian just behind his father. Kyle walked behind Molly, the two young men seeming to have a wall of ice between them. Black Lightning walked beside them, his head back and spine straight, though Anissa had been everything to him. Batman knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the man was holding tightly to Batman's own words not to belittle her choice, no matter how badly it had ended. The other Justice Society members filed in behind the elder statesman of the hero community, grimly silent and bearing their legacy with dignity. It seemed all too recent to them that they had held services for Hippolyta, and yet that had been more bearable.

The rest of the Titans followed the eldest heroes, sliding into the pews close to the front, and he watched from the side as lips were bitten and hands clenched as they took in the display and Bumblebee held Baby Wildebeest close to keep him silent. Wally was with them, standing between Damage and Herald in the middle of a row... interesting to see him back with the Titans, after so long. Kid Flash was standing as close to Robin as decently possible, and Cissie King-Jones had slipped into the row behind him. 

Behind the Titans came the League--or what was left of it--in smaller, fractured groups, separated out by the allegiances being redrawn. He slipped from his shadows as Green Arrow, Green Lantern, and Speedy took the outer edge of a row--and if it rippled through the crowd when he stood with them, he cared little. The rumors would fall as they usually did--perhaps in this case some good might come of it. He knew word of Black Canary's disappearance would also circle like wildfire now, as she was nowhere to be found among the JSA or the League--and that was nothing like her. He turned slightly, and watched the crowd behind them. Heroes that had long retired had come out for this funeral, as some had for Sue's, and the patterns displayed as League and non-League and independent used each other to remain separated... were disturbing. 

He did not miss the way heads turned among the Titans once they were settled, non-masked eyes hopeful, searching... or the way their expressions fell when they found both he and Ollie, and the echoing, empty spaces beside them. Not physically there--even this cathedral was going to be crowded--but felt so keenly. Even Robin, who knew better, had turned to look--and was now scanning the highest places of the cathedral, looking for that streak of black and blue. 

More feet followed, sound of boots--and he looked over his shoulder to see contingents of the NYPD and NYFD filing into rows behind the heroes in dress-uniforms and with deeply respectful gazes. Behind them, the few, respected members of the press that had been allowed in by Alan's say, and then, civilian friends and acquaintances of their fallen, and merely those who wished to pay their respects filled the cathedral. The doors closed, officiates took their places, and the bishop's voice rang out, deep and strong, as he began to speak.

*~*~*~*

As the service closed, Robin had to give credit where it was due, the bishop had coped amazingly well with the challenge of creating a service for a true alien, a construct, and three metahumans who had all lived lives... not quite in accordance with the stated words of his God. Rather out of compassion, or necessity, he had remained far from the usual dogma, and spoken instead of service, of steadfastness, of the good they had done, speaking of each as if they were familiar and known. The music, he recalled distantly, had been exceptional... and he was grateful in the extreme that everyone who had chosen to speak had managed to control themselves through their time. If any of them had lost it on the dais--too many of his team would have broken down with them. His own skin was wet behind the mask, but nothing showed on his face, others were not so fortunate, and he was glad he'd thought to secrete tissues in several of his belt's compartments--Karen, Tori, and Bette had all needed them. 

He had not been there for the discussions Cyborg, Sentinel, Black Lightning, and Rex had had about the details of this, but it was the group of Titans that walked to Kory's coffin first, lifting it without a single bobble. Not that Cassie, or Vic, or Leonid couldn't have carried it on their own... but she deserved that honor-guard, and he bit his lip hard at the thought. They would take her home to the Tower, to her garden, eventually, but Jade and Grace were both to be interred first. In the mean-time, the hearse would wait at the JSA headquarters. 

The JSA lifted Jade's coffin next, following the Titans out. Robin saw them all take their cue from Jay, knew that the old speedster was the one leading the team now in this time of crisis. Bart was worried about him. With the four original members at the corners, and the 'father/daughter' team of STRIPE and Stargirl in the middle, they lifted Jade's casket without a hitch and moved in unison.

The--elder, original?--Outsiders and CM3 moved to Anissa's coffin and lifted it, not working together as smoothly, but with infinite respect, and they carried her out, steps falling into perfect time within the first few strides. He wondered for a moment if anyone had asked Bruce... and shook it off. He couldn't have, even if he wished to.

Tim watched as Kon stood with the others to go and lift Grace's casket. He knew--they all knew--that at least four of those six could have carried her on their own, and it had probably been considered, given how few ties she had had. He wanted to know who had made the calls to recruit the rest of that set--Cyborg had asked Kon after one of those conferences. He wasn't sure if Kon had said yes because of Grace... or because he hadn't been chosen for Kory. Seeing the most flamboyant, hard-living members of several teams wearing blank-faced solemnity was... almost disturbing. Connor didn't surprise him in the least, but Gardner especially was a shock.

Rex, alone, went to lift the urn that held Shift, his form not holding solid as he lifted part of himself and followed the others out... and it was time for the families to follow. He had heard Molly weeping, heard the low, low whisper of Alan's voice... and her face was tear-streaked when they passed.

Exiting the church seemed to take hours, and the sunlight outside was still too beautifully bright, gleaming harshly off black metal and flashing off silver trim... //You couldn't be raining?// It had rained at most of the other funerals of his life, after all. 

They separated into groups, going to vehicles or into the air or simply racing along the ground--many of them would beat the hearse to Jenny's grave... it had to contend with the traffic. Bart glanced at him, he nodded... and they were gone. 

*~*~*~*

It was pure ill-luck that Connor Hawke was only feet from Guy Gardner when he opened his mouth--as Guy did so often--and stuck his foot in it. Batman had been stunned by the callousness in the words--but Hawke had come unhinged, right fist slamming up hard into the Lantern's jaw... //Dinah's not here aga--// he cut off the thought before it could finish, watching Guy's head slam into the ground. People broke apart, getting out of the way--and that low voice, laden with fury, cut through the crowd like a knife.

"I'm not the only hero with a brother missing, Gardner, and unless you're going to say about Nightwing what you just said about my brother, I recommend you shut. up. Now." 

Before the last words were out of his mouth, Robin was on his left and Kyle had come practically out of nowhere to his right side, a majority of the Titans behind them, their expressions dangerous--it was obvious that propriety or no, another insult was going to be all it took to spark this powder-keg. 

Guy stared up at that set of furious young heroes, fingers shoved hard against his jaw, shaking his head, apparently trying to think of something to say. Bruce spared a moment to be grateful Ollie and Mia had been far enough away not to hear, or Guy might well have fared worse. Connor, after all, had only used a fist, and it did not look like anything was broken. He went around the edges of the gathering to head Ollie--alerted by the sudden stillness--off, missing whatever Guy said in his own defense... but stalled voices took up conversations again, and the tension in the air eased. Apparently, whatever had been said was enough. 

Hal arched a brow as he reached them, and he half-sighed. "Guy was being an idiot, again. Connor handled it." 

"Pretty well, it looks like," Ollie said with a tight half-smile, eyes over his shoulder. "Not like my kid, though. Does Guy need a little more straightening out?" 

"I doubt it." And if he did... the Titans were on it.

"Want a ride out to San Fran, Bats?" 

"No. Robin has the Titans, and Gotham is still unstable." Jefferson's choice to bar the heroes from Anissa's gravesite had made Starfire's the last they would attend, and most were already leaving. He needed to be working within the Cave, attempting to find a way to stop his rogue creation before it could continue with its schemes--and he needed to be on Gotham's streets. This new player, this Red Hood... was very, very dangerous. 

Jordan nodded. "The Titans are heading back, so we'll follow. See you."

Bruce nodded, and turned to leave, the other heroes departing for their own cities or for San Francisco--he predicted an... interesting night at Warriors, once the doors opened. That, thankfully, was none of his concern. 

*~*~*~*

Raven walked outside, wrapped in every layer of shield she could create, as her friends carried Kory's body out. They felt... calmer, for the most part, the strain of waiting over... It was a great relief. 

The time she had spent hidden within Kory's soul had acquainted her with the Tamaranean mourning rituals--she had seen Kory perform them too many times for those who died in Trigon's mad pursuit of her--so she was the only choice... As the heroes who had chosen to come gathered around them, she began--it was swift, as befitted a warrior, and haunting, words of an almost-dead people said on earth for the first (only) time...

There had been a bitter argument between she and Vic, with Gar trying mediate it--and Gar didn't do the voice of reason particularly well--over how this ceremony would end. The Tamaraneans burned their dead... and Vic was dead-set against the idea of a funeral pyre. He'd argued against it with everything he had--and finally, he'd pointed out that they couldn't make the kids watch that... and they would refuse to leave. Then Gar had pointed out that funerals were for the living and Kory would understand... and she'd given in. They were right. 

She stood and watched as Kon carefully laid the coffin into the grave and began to push the earth in, seeing it fall over the flowers... She turned away, sharply--and found Vic and Gar standing behind her. She didn't remember seeing them move... She reached out, caught their hands, let their strength ground her as her "sister's" grave filled in behind her. 

The sounds stopped, and she felt the other, elder heroes leaving until only the Titans remained... and slowly, they headed inside, none of them talking--not even Bart.


	19. Fractured Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 'family' still has some difficulties

//...I really, really need to talk to you, I know you're home, where are you?// Dick grumbled mentally as he hunted through the house for his lover and master. Both of his lovers, actually, but Slade currently had priority...

The man in question came around the corner, moving cat quiet from habit, and his eye searching. When it landed on Dick, there was no question that he was not pleased.

There could be any number of reasons for that, and Dick was on a mission of his own. "Canary told me something you need to know." 

"It can wait." The cold dismissal of his words was not a good omen.

Dick went very, very still, watching Slade's face. "What's going on?" //What the fuck?//

"What gives you the leeway to withhold information from a mission debrief? Do you think your status gives you that?" His voice was full of anger at Dick.

Dick went chalk-white, mind flashing through. //What-how-ROY!// "It covered everything important." He'd only managed the careful obfuscations because Slade hadn't pushed... And he wasn't touching that 'status' question. Not a chance. 

Slade could still move faster than Dick could track at times. This was one of them, as the heavy hand landed in a stunning backhand. "I told you not to ever do that again. Didn't I?"

Blood pooled in his mouth, tears in his eyes and white light streaked across his vision as pain stole his breath, knocked back against the wall. He swallowed the blood and tried to breathe, shaken... and there was--unfortunately--only one answer. "Yes, sir." 

"So, your next reply is everything you left out, yes?" His voice slid over the words with an icy menace. He began walking, hands behind his back, toward his office, assured Dick would follow properly.

Dick closed his eyes, then heeled Slade, swallowing blood again before he started talking. Roy'd already---and what the HELL was up with that?!--told Slade gods knew what, so it was time to get thorough, sticking as close to purely the facts as he could. His jaw ached, but his speech came out clearly. 

Slade settled in his chair behind his desk, flicking an eye over the monitors. One was trained on Lian, making sure the baby of the household was safe. Another was following Dinah's wandering of his house //Getting braver in your gilded cage, Canary?//, while the rest showed varying scenes of the house. A casual play over the controls, and he insured that the infirmary would not come up for view. "You do understand your mistake now, Kid?" he asked once Dick finished, his voice and face much calmer now.

Dick's eyes flashed with something unidentifiable, but his expression never changed--he had that much control... yet there was acid in his answer despite every attempt to cover it, despite the reaction he knew it was going to get the moment he heard the tone of his voice. "Yes, sir. I get it. You want to know everything." //Just like someone else I know.// 

Slade's hand tensed on the controls to the security cameras, his eye boring into Dick. His full-fledged temper snapped into place, and he thought about beating the boy for his impertinence. Then the eye narrowed, and Slade spoke in dead calm tones. "When you wear my colors, I will know everything, Dick Grayson." He then indicated the door. "Report to the infirmary. Harper's waiting for you. By his own choice." He reversed his earlier decision to keep them separate. "Seems he'll follow you into hell itself." He turned back to the business on his desk then.

"You. Fucking. didn't." Never in all of the years Slade had known Dick had he ever heard that tone from the boy's mouth. No one ever had. It was Batman's voice with a killer's edge, black ice and the howling of a midnight sandstorm. It was Renegade's voice in the full grip of a killing rage--and it was turned with lethal intent on his own master for his lover's sake. 

Slade stood, coming from around the desk to stand right in front of his perfect heir, the one man on the face of the planet that fit Slade perfectly. "I did not offer. I did not, a single time, hint that it could be his." He reached up--and Renegade ducked back, the rage in his voice blazing in his eyes. Slade cocked his head to one side, and gave the boy a penetrating look. His voice did not hold warmth when he spoke. "When he asked, to protect you from his slower reactions, who was I to deny him?"

Agony slashed through the rage in those eyes for a moment--just a moment--and he took a single hard breath, rage stiffening his spine and wrecking all of his control. "The same man that played my lover's fears and issues to put him back on a killing field, Slade, despite knowing exactly what the first time did to him. The same man that left me no choice but to let the best thing that ever happened to me turn himself into a killer again to watch my back." //The same man who's daughter used to have two eyes,// sat hard behind his lips, barely restrained. "You knew I didn't want him out there. You knew I wanted him safe--and it didn't matter when someone as good as he is made the offer, did it?" 

"Question, Kid." Slade refused to let it go to the physical, even as he had to rein his temper in. "What did Dinah see that made her seek you out? What made her risk her neck at your hands, and then ask yourself if you think he would have been safe without every advantage we can give him?"

His shoulders and thighs locked up--//Luthor's not Luthor. We're being played, and we don't know the stakes...// "Oh, you," and the rest of it was in Romany, rolling, bitter savagery in his voice as he swore at him. "She doesn't think Luthor's Luthor. He didn't react right. He didn't know enough. Hope and Mercy weren't there. You're being played and don't even know it, is what she saw." Not how he'd originally intended to put that.

Slade's fists clenched at his side, but he had a focus outside of Dick now. "You need to go to Harper, wait with him." Slade had things to do, and could not spend time mollifying his boy. "For what it's worth, he stands as good a chance as you did of no side effects." There, he had managed to keep his anger out of his voice long enough to offer that much.

"We'd all better hope so," Dick replied, managing to force himself into motion. This fight wasn't near through, but there was someone a hell of a lot more important for him to see to. He nudged the door open and slid out of it, not daring to touch it again, and headed straight for the infirmary. //Roy, WHY?!//

*~*~*~ 

Rose was on the landing when Dick slid out of the room, every fiber vibrating with his anger. She had been in her room, but her nerves had begun to prickle, until a full precog sensation was itching, just at the back of her mind. Now, she felt as if she knew what it likely was, as she worried for her new home, her family. She had truly felt that life could be good, that she could finally belong and be happy among people that would not see her as a freak.

And now that was threatened, if Dick and her father were arguing. She could see no other reason for Dick to be leaving Daddy's office in a rage, except that they had argued. She descended the stairs, and reached the office just as her father was exiting.

"Daddy," she began, reaching out to him.

"I have things to do, Rose," he said, brusquely and without touching the hand she held out. His emotions were locked from his face, but she could read his body, read carefully into what he was not saying. The mere fact he called her by name, had pleaded business first spoke volumes.

"Then let me help you, Daddy." She stood up tall and slim, her face showing her eagerness to please. "I'm not delicate; I know you have been shielding me from what the League did, what Light was raving about when we extracted him from the Titans. This whole Society thing revolves on that, doesn't it Daddy?" She kept talking, showing her ability to pay attention, to piece it together. "You got confirmation from the Canary. That's why she was so upset the other night."

Slade looked down at this youngest child of his, the product of an affair spanning several years, a hidden blessing from an old friend now gone. Slowly, he nodded, and then put his hand on her shoulder, drawing her close. For a long moment, he just held her in a loose hug, letting her squeeze his waist. 

"Come in the office, Kitten, and we'll talk." His voice was gentle now, as he recognized the fact he had made a mistake, one of several in fact. What had been said to Dick had been thrown out as much for Dick not following the rules, as for the fact that he knew things were amiss. There had been far too many things in too short a time, rearranging the way his world worked. Some of them, like Dick and the other additions, had come because he chose them. Others, like feeling the others in his echelon of the Society had other, too-well hidden agendas, were gnawing on his need to control the game from his version of the rules.

Learning the full details of the League's perfidy, and Light's culpability in matters, had done little to ease the growing sense of danger. He needed to watch Dinah's conversation with Dick, rather than track her down, as he had intended. She likely would have provoked more anger, considering their dealings before going to Kahndaq.

He settled into his chair, as Rose perched on the desk in front of him, as he started explaining everything, bringing her up to date. He kept it cut and dry, but as he progressed, he started seeing small nuances he had missed, pieces that at the time had not fit the puzzle. Eventually, father and daughter were sharing the executive chair, drawing out organizational charts to see what each event had affected.

They had a list of obvious and suspected motives listed for each member at the uppermost level, when the words of 'Luthor's not Luthor' rang back through his mind, and caused Slade to check the security feed for Dick and Dinah's conversation. He sat back in the chair, studying the visual and verbal clues Dinah offered, while Rose all but curled in his lap, resting the unseeing side of her face against his shoulder.

"She could be useful, using her as the blind mole, that way," Rose commented, as they watched.

"Hmm." His non-committal tone in that murmur made her press her cheek to his. 

"Blondie bother you? I can always dispose of her as quietly as possible, refocus Lian on myself," Rose purred. "She's cool, but you come first, and she makes you twitch."

"No profit in killing her yet." Slade stroked her hair. "She and I had words. Concerning sons." Rose's breath caught; she hated Joey with a passion, blaming him for the intentional overdose that had robbed her of her sanity, but she never breathed a word of it. Not even when her father was missing Wintergreen would she say one bad word about her brother.

"She will not get another chance," Rose growled. "And she will be made aware of that." Her fierce protection of him drew a smile to his lips. "What about Dick, Daddy? What happened?"

"A disagreement on professional and personal matters." Only Rose could hear the faint twinge of regret, and only because she knew the man fairly well, having studied him from the minute he had taken her into his life. She knew if his nerves had been flicked on the Joey subject that Dick had walked into a powder keg to begin with. She would have to find a way to slip that knowledge his way, to help smooth matters over…maybe Roy would see the logic in keeping Dick and Slade on good terms and help her there. After all, it was not like the men could just pick up and leave…they'd have both Ravager and Terminator hunting them for the rest of their short lives, if they got out at all.

She shifted, wrapping her arms around his neck, then smiled as she started to stand. "Daddy, I'll handle things. Don't worry so much." 

He nodded, feeling more relaxed than he had in a few days. "Kitten…I just had the Canary's wing fixed…don't break it or anything else too noticeable."

Rose flashed her brilliantly insane look, and practically danced to the door. "Oh Daddy, I'll be discreet this time."

`~`~`~`~`

Rose slipped down the hall, homing in on where Dinah was. It was quite late, but the vigilante had last been in the…ahh yes, still in the kitchen, listening to the radio and washing the dishes she had used for her late snack. Rose moved in, eye narrowed as she prepared to give Dinah a firm warning where her father was considered. 

"I've already walked the road of intimidation with your father," Dinah began, not even turning. "And I've been expecting you all evening."

Rose had to pause; she knew she had not made a noise, had not done anything that should have triggered a warning. She started to ask her teacher a question, momentarily forgetting her anger.

"Air pressure. When you live in close quarters on a regular basis with Batman or one of his, or a speedster, you learn to feel the movement of air." Now she did turn, her face serious. "Tell me your grief with me, but use logic, not emotion. If I am supposed to teach you, I might as well teach you from my mistakes."

Rose had to regroup. This reaction was not what she expected, and then she had to look and be sure it was just Black Canary. The woman before her was not particularly renowned for her brains, or for letting logic overrule her heart. 

"You made Daddy angry. Hit him with something you had to know was off limits." At Dinah's nod, Rose cocked her head to one side. "Are you suicidal?"

The blonde actually laughed, a low sound that was one part rueful, one part bitter. "No, Rose. I spoke without thinking, something I hope I can keep from being a habit of yours and Lian's. It brings way too much grief." She sighed, her face troubled and betraying her emotions of loss and fear. "I apologized, the instant it was out there."

"Don't do it again, Dinah. I really think Lian's pretty fond of you, and that might get bad if you hurt him again." Rose turned away to go, feeling her warning was served, leaving Dinah to her thoughts again.

~`~`~`~`~  
2 am EST

Slade had continued to work, one monitor tuned to the infirmary, on the off chance Dick needed help with Roy. His anger with the boy had largely dissipated, but he could see it was by no means over with Dick. The issues raised would haunt them for days, if not longer. Right now, Slade was too busy looking over the contracts proposed to him by the Society, specifically Luthor, to find common threads.

He had begun to notice that the kidnappings centered on energy channelers…both hero and villain…who could grasp and control large amounts of energy from outside sources. That was a suspicious enough pattern, and he began to look into disappearances he knew of. This search, however, came to a screeching halt as a news alert crawled over his browser. Other pursuits aside, he had to learn how much this affected his plans, and who might have done it.

"Black Canary," he said, flicking on the intercom to her room. The sleeping woman roused to her costumed name, slowly, and looked around, blinking. Slade would have been amused at another time, but right now, he had business. "Come to my office."

"Give me a minute, Slade…" He turned his attention back to the news, away from the sight of her standing to stretch, flicking the infirmary monitor off. She was knocking on the door three minutes later, a loose robe thrown on over her tee shirt and shorts. When he called her in, he beckoned for her to come to his side of the desk, watching her reaction as she read the news.

Dinah felt her breath catch in her throat, as the blood drained from her face. She had to rest her hand on Slade's shoulder, to keep from passing out as she read the news of the explosion concerning the satellite the League used as their Watch Tower. She scanned over the calendar at hand, trying to recall rosters, muttering under her breath. It convinced Slade that this had not been an odd ploy of the heroes, to go to ground, as he heard the names she whispered, trying to figure out who had been on duty.

"With the funeral services today, I doubt they had more than skeleton crews," he told her impassively, to see what else he could learn while she was in shock.

"Middle of night…volunteer duty probably," she said, tears springing to her eyes. "It would have been J'onn or Br…Batman," she whispered, pulling away from him, from the computer, and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Don't fall to pieces on me now, sister," Slade growled. "I need hero reactions, pronto, so I can handle this."

Her eyes snapped to his face, and she started to retort, until she read the knowledge there. "This is not something you knew was going to happen," she whispered.

"And it smacks of someone accelerating a plan that has been hidden for some time," Slade agreed. "So this is where you choose. The hidden devil or the one you know?"

She took a deep breath, knowing the third choice, to walk out and be a marked target was already out. "Your game, Slade…but I don't kill."

"We'll see."

~`~`~`~`~

5:25 am, EST   
//Nnnh... oh, god, my head...// Roy winced, went to lift his hand to his still-closed eyes, and panicked when he couldn't move, struggling against what felt like steel--

"Roy, Roy stop!" snapped over his ears and he went still, relaxing at the sound of Dick's voice--if Dick was right there, it had to be okay... Then, memory crashed through him like a flood tide, sharper and clearer than his usual recall--bite of the needle, 'this is what I have to be', Slade's hands on his arm, talking to Slade, laying it all out... //I'm okay. Oh, thank you gods, I'm okay... Guess I ought to open my eyes, huh?// 

He wasn't, really, sure that was a good idea, but from the tone of Dick's voice, he'd better... //Wha? --oh, yeah... He is pissed. Wow.// The speed he was processing things at was going to take some getting used to--his subconscious was running way ahead of his conscious thought. He slowly opened one eye, wincing at the light, then the other--and when he actually located Dick, ice water lanced down his spine. Dick was sporting a bruise that matched the one fading across his cheek--barring the larger size //Slade backhanded him, shit...//--and the expression on his face... //Oh, fuck...// That iced-over fury was getting way, way too familiar. "Dick..." 

"You scared the fuck out of me, you son of a bitch." Any conversation that started with Dick swearing at him was so not going to go well. 

"Dick, I didn't--"

"Didn't think? No sh--"

It took real effort to interrupt that blazing rage, but damn it, Dick. "No, damn it. I didn't mean to worry you--but I had to do thi--" //I had to, Dick. I can't be the reason you get hurt.// 

"No, you fucking didn't! I know things were fucked up, but we could have fixed it!"

"Bullshit, Dick, and you know it!" 

"No, I don't. We could. have. fixed. it."

"No, Dick, we couldn't have... not without handicapping you, and that might as well be a death sentence. Look, get me out of these damned things." Dick glared at him--not that that was anything new--and stalked over, unlocking the restraints with savage twists of his wrist, ankles first //smart, just in case...//--and the minute he had a hand free, it shot out and wrapped around Dick's upper arm as he unfastened the other wrist. "Now, listen to me, damnit!" 

"Fine. Talk," Dick snapped, blue eyes locked onto his like targeting lasers. 

"We nearly fucked up a hit we could have done in our sleep even two months ago, because I can't--I couldn't--keep up with what was in your head, and you can no more slow that down than you can stop breathing. It's the same reason Wa--Fleetfeet and I make a crap team, Dick, and you know it."

"It's not the same thing, Roy!" 

"Yes, it is, Dick. It's the exact same thing, and I refuse to be the reason something happens to you!"

"Then why go with me, Roy?" 

The confusion and baffled rage in that question did nothing to keep the words from slamming into his chest like a knife plunged heart-deep, and he had no idea what was blazed across his face as he sucked a breath. //How can you not get it, Dick?!// "Did you not listen to a damned word I've said over the last day?! I'm not going to let him get you hurt, or be the cause of it!" //I can't.// 

"I... jesus, Roy. What the fuck did my manipulative bastard of a lover say to you, to push you to this?" 

"Nothing I didn't need to hear." Which was true. Slade's... visit had snapped him out of the numb state he'd been in, as close to his 'normal' self as could be expected... and he'd needed it. He'd been leaning on Dick too hard, probably out of the shock--and it was damned well time Dick remembered they were partners. 

"Roy..." dark warning in that tone, along with the anger. 

Fine. Dick wanted to play it this way? Fine. "Basically? If I was going to be nothing but your" bought and paid for "toy and Lian's daddy, or if I was going to keep being someone."

Dick's blue eyes flared hot and his hand clenched, "Oh, that son of a--"

"Dick, knock it off. He was right." //Slade's going to kill me. He's absolutely going to kill me, for putting this between them.// 

"No, he wasn't!" 

"How can you--what the fuck, Dick?"

"I told you I'd calm down, I didn't say I was over it! The last fucking thing I wanted was you in the middle of this side of things, you're better--"

His other hand snapped up, plastered over Dick's lips before the rest of that sentence could come out of his mouth. "Don't go there, Dick. I'm not, and if you'd listen to your brain and not whatever the hell overprotective impulses are riding you, you, you'd know it. I'm a" hero "fighter, it's who I am, has been since the day Brave Bow sent me with Ollie--did you really think I'd ever be okay with knowing you were out there in danger and I couldn't be with you?!" 

Dick bit at his fingers, and snapped once he moved his hand, "I didn't think that far ahead, I was a little busy trying to figure out how the hell to keep you alive!"

"So get that far, and fast, Dick. You know me better than anyone on this planet, so get your brain in gear and ask yourself if there was ever a chance I wasn't going to stay at your back." 

Dick stared at him, caught between the tide of his rage and Roy's frustrated logic, //God damn it, I-- Shit. Pay attention to what he's really saying, before you make this worse.// "I..." He shook his head, unable to argue with that. He did know better. 

"And by the way, Dick..." Oh, Roy was well and truly steamed at him, to be using that tone. "Much as I appreciate you protecting my daughter... stop trying to protect me--Dinah didn't take it from Ollie, and I'm not taking it from you. You. Know. Better, everyone you've ever been with would have kicked your ass for that kind of bullshit, why do you think I won't?"

//That's not the--I wasn't-- Aw, fuck. I was.// He felt his eyes drop, letting himself react that much, as he stopped long enough to really think about how he'd been acting, and how it could have appeared... and yeah. Grade-A overprotective jackass. "Roy... shit. I... didn't mean to come off like that. I... just didn't want you to follow me into this. More blood on my hands is nothing, but..." 

"Dick... I get that. I promise--and thank you... but I can handle my own sins, all right? I don't need an intercessor, or for you to stand between me and the rest of the world." 

"You wouldn't be in this if I hadn't--"

"Dick, if you 'hadn't', I'd be dead, and Chesh would probably have my daughter," frank acceptance of the fact that nothing but what Dick had done had kept him alive. "And thanks all the same, but I'm not ready to die yet. I... don't know how this is going to end, hell, I don't even come close to having all of the pieces of this puzzle--and yes, that scares me--but I can't do nothing. Not now, not ever. You got that, yet?"

Dick's lips set hard, staring at him, then slowly, he nodded. "Yeah, Roy... I got that--but how could you take this kind of a chance?"

Roy snorted. "That's rich, coming from you."

Dick shook his head. "Slade didn't give me much of a choice. Yes or no, in or out, choose right now... Not like I could say no."

//Yes you could have,// sat on the tip of his tongue, but he choked it back. No... Dick couldn't have. Not when leaving Slade's household and protection would paint a target on his back for the Bat--and there was no doubt in Dick's mind, at least, that that was exactly what would have happened. Roy wasn't so sure that Bruce wouldn't have taken it better than Dick thought, but he'd been there for a nightmare or three of Dick's right after the son of a bitch had sent him into Blackgate--Dick would die before he'd allow himself to ever be caged like that again, and that was coloring every choice his lover made. He knew it... and it made too damned much sense for his high-flying partner and best friend. He understood, after all, he had a streak of that same defiant fear himself... So he just nodded, and let go of Dick's arm to stroke down to his hand, wincing at the bruise he'd unintentionally left behind. "Guess not. Sorry..." eyes indicating the bruise. 

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing... still, Roy--"

"You came through it fine. Rose... well, you told me what happened to her... and Slade figured I'd come through fine. Something about my stubborn streak, apparently. It was worth it, Dick... and besides, won't it be nice not to have to be so damned careful?" 

That shocked a laugh out of his lover, blue eyes finally starting to lose their angry cast, and the tone was rueful when he finally spoke. "Yeah... it will. Just... tell me again that this was your choice."

"My choice, Dick. Mine alone," green eyes looked into blue with nothing but honesty... and slowly, Roy watched his lover's expression settle down, relaxing into nothing but Dick Grayson, Renegade's volatile temper back under control. 

"Okay. God, I owe Slade an apology..." 

"What did you do?" 

"Oh. Not much... just got into a hell of a fight with him, and really didn't take this news well, on top of everything else... Oh, yeah, thanks ever so for ratting me out, I was going to figure out how to fix--"

"No, you weren't; sorry I got you in trouble; and my way was faster. And worked better. We've got this, now."

"Yeah... we probably do. Damn, we are going to be one hell of a team, now..." 

"Always were, Dick. Just an extra edge, now."

"Yeah. That's what I meant," Dick nodded, and leaned in, hand sliding over his shoulder... and Roy just kissed him back, hand sliding up to his hair. //I'm okay, Dick. I promise. I'm right here,// he said with the touch, and felt tensed muscles slowly relax under his hands. 

Dick pulled away eventually, a yawn cracking his jaw. "God, I am gonna crash so hard..." 

"Why?"

"I've been up almost 24 hours and running on pure damned adrenaline for the last five, Roy, between Slade and you... I'm tapped." Without the adrenaline, he could already feel the exhaustion hitting. 

Roy glared at him, shaking his head, "You should've--"

"What, left you alone and ripped the sheets up worrying? No thanks. I need sleep now, though..."

"All right. I'm pretty awake, but I'll come keep you company. Did you eat?" The look told him volumes. "Of course not. Okay, fine. Go on, I'll bring you whatever I can scavenge out of the kitchen. You can make up with Slade once you're not too tired to think straight. Get." 

Dick nodded and let go of him, then headed out the door, Roy right behind him. //Just like usual. One screaming match later, and we're fine again...// The thought was almost amusing.


	20. After It Crashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both heroes and rogues begin to line up for the coming battles

Barbara roused as the door to her new monitor room opened. She had fielded calls all day from the various Corps members in space, helping them route their catches to the proper places, not that anyone of any importance had been among them. Later on had seen heroes trying to contact other heroes, making arrangements for hunting down Cheshire and her crew, rumored to include Deadshot and Catman now. 

Then the first sleep she had attempted after all the funerals had descended into terror, as an ear splitting tone informed her of the destruction of the Watch Tower. In the confusion of trying to handle the calls for information, she had barely been able to keep track of who was accounted for and where.

Now, she looked up from the crook of her arm where she had laid her head to see Arthur striding in. The man still had a very regal appearance, but she could tell he was as tired as she was. 

"You didn't have to come," she protested. "Dolphin's seeing to everything." She sat up and back in her chair, as the tingles in her toes indicated she had been bent forward far too long.

"You have been very vague on who was aboard." He cut right to the point, as he leaned across her desk, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that was almost as frightening as Dick could be on a one track mind.

"You know it is for the best, the same reason we concealed Dinah's disappearance originally." She tried not to let his emotion force her out of her focus. 

"Secrets are what started this whole thing, Barbara Gordon. Being a modern day Delphic Priestess does not make your secrets any more sacrosanct than those that fractured the League." He stood back up, radiating grief.

"You think I don't understand this loss?" she asked, her voice cracking, despite her discipline. "Me?"

Arthur flinched. "I'm…"

"No…I understand." Barbara shook her head. "Any news from the island?" Before the Corps had arrived, before the memorial preparations, a legion of OMACs, robotic assassins that kidnapped innocent human hosts, had descended on Themiscira. Brother Eye had not been above taking advantage of the heroes' grief and distraction. 

"None yet." He had been embroiled in too many problems to send more than a token force…and they had not been heard from again within ten minutes of engaging the enemy.

"You warned Tempest about the Spectre hunting all magic users?" Barbara inquired, to refocus Arthur from the tragedies they could not help, to one they could hopefully prevent.

"Yes. He is still among his teammates, and they will likely face battle against the Spectre, as the team possesses Raven." Arthur squared his shoulders; Garth was a solid young man, and had acquitted himself well over the last few years.

"Do you have time to stay today?" Barbara had not been one for much company between the time she was shot and when she revealed herself to Dinah, but the days on the island were weighing her down, especially as she did not particularly like Dolphin. Arthur nodded wearily. 

"Long enough for a shared meal, Barbara. Then I must see to my people again."

`~`~`~`~`

Robin's hand slapped down on the Tower's alarm as something hit their airspace. He'd taken the midnight shift at the monitors, mainly to get a little space. Fond as he was of Kon, Cassie, Cissie, and Bart, having them continually around was... stressful--but this night was really making him regret it. He knew, roughly, who'd been on the Tower... and they truly couldn't afford that loss--and God only knew what was coming their way now. 

He heard the Titans scrambling as Oracle's voice came over the line and he rattled off what he knew... and slumped in relief as the Tower's computers finally matched the data. "It's a travelsphere, Oracle. Hang on..." The monitor showed the sphere opening just above ground level--stomach-turning even on film as reality did things it just shouldn't--revealing dark hair, pale skin, silver and star-spangled black... "It's Troia. It's Troia. From what the Titans said, she's sane again..." 

He watched warily, unwilling to bet on that--after all, how many of them had been needed to pull her back? After a long moment, though, "Everything looks clear, Oracle," he added, relief in his voice, as heroes that hadn't heard of her return scrambled to get to her and she pulled them in with open arms, a smile on her lips. "False alarm. Titans out." 

He was going to stay right where he was, eyes on the monitors. Someone else could fill her in--it wasn't like he really knew her, anyway--it ought to be a friend that told her. 

*~*~*~*

"Donna? What're you doing back?" 

"I need help, Vic." She answered Vic as her eyes searched the crowd, looking for old friends--and her ribs creaked as a dripping-wet Tempest got through the crowd and yanked her into his arms with a joyous, disbelieving cry of her name.   
She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, still searching. "There's a war in space, between Rann and Thanagar. They blamed each other for a cosmic storm that's built up, at first. Now they're mostly trying to survive, but if we don't find some way to stop the storm--it's growing exponentially--I'm honestly afraid it will be the end of life as we know it..."

Wally had his hand on her shoulder, squeezed tight, and though she couldn't see it, Tempest's eyes were blazing bloody murder at Vic. 

"Who're you planning on taking with you, Donna?" 

"You. Kory--" the second the words left her lips, expressions fell, hands tightened... and she knew something horrible had happened. "What? What is it?"

Vic shook his head slowly. "Kory's dead, Donna. Jade, Grace, Thunder, and Shift, too. No one can find Nightwing and Arsenal--and someone or something just blew the Watch Tower. Life as we know it's already pretty well screwed up... but you're talking "end of the world," aren't you? I'll come, if you need me."

Her hands shook, and she leaned into Garth's hold, closing her eyes. //Oh, by the gods. Kory, Jade...// They'd both been on her list--and to have lost more of her sisters... She forced the grief back, pulled at her anger, and her voice came out low and harsh, "Who?"

"We don't know. Someone really damned professional--but hell, there's DNA from everyone from the Fearsome Five to Bane to Deathstroke to the damned Turtle and people we don't even know in that HQ... We do know Lady Vic was involved, but someone poisoned her to keep her from talking and nobody can get their hands on Cheshire..."

Too much flashed through her mind, flickers of two boys, of streaming red hair and pupilless green eyes, three teens, laughing and fighting both, two wonderful men and a woman that had been one of her best friends... She locked the thoughts down with every bit of mental strength she possessed, shaking them off. Life didn't, couldn't, stop and if the magic-users hadn't found them, she would certainly have no luck. 

"All right. I'll leave it in better hands than mine. I do need you, Vic. Marvel Jr?"

"I'm in, Troia. Getting off planet sounds like a great idea at this point."

"Red Star?"

"Da, Troia. I'll come." Pantha growled, and the two of them stalked off to have an argument in what sounded like Russian.

"Donna?" Cassie sounded... torn, and Donna shook her head. Cassie was going to be needed right here. "No, Wondergirl. You're going to be needed here. You too, Superboy."

"You're after a high-octane team," Bumblebee said regretfully, "or I'd say we'd go..."

"I appreciate that, 'Bee, but you're right, I am."

Argent spoke up. "Kyle's Earthside--and he's pretty broken up. Getting him out at work on something might be just what he needs."

//That's going to be awkward, but she's right...// Donna nodded. "Good thought, and thanks for the heads up. Up for a trip?"

"Why not? Beats waiting for one of those damned OMACs to come down after me..." 

Donna filed that to ask about later, and looked around her. It had been a long time since she'd seen most of them. 

"Wish I could go, Donna, but..." Tempest shrugged, "I don't think my powers will be all that useful in space."

Wally opened his mouth--and she shook her head. "You're Justice League, Wally, and they need you."

The mutter of, "Not much of a League left," from Gar caught her attention, but no one looked like they wanted to talk about it, and whatever had happened mattered little to her, right now. "I've got a list of others I want to talk to; I'll be back, just as soon as I find them, all right?"

"Good luck," came from several throats, but Cassie shook her head and caught her hand. "Come fly with me, we need to talk." 

Donna tilted her head, then nodded once, and they both went into the air. 

"Stay close!" half a dozen voices yelled after them, and Cassie flicked them a high-sign, then flew just out of earshot and up a ways to tell Donna what they'd just learned had happened to Themiscira, before she attempted to go home. 

~`~`~`~`~

She could not sleep. She had not slept well any of the nights she had been here, save the drugged unconsciousness after Slade brought her home from Kahndaq. She knew it was her conscience. 

But now, she kept seeing faces. Mostly J'onn's or Bruce's, surrounded by flames. Or worse, their forms suffering the effects of decompression into space. Either way, the images jerked her out of any potential sleep, left her cold and gasping with the force of the violent sobs. One man had been her brother in arms, friend through so many trials; the other…she thought they might have had a chance at something, once he had given her forgiveness for her stupidity in the mess surrounding Light.

Now she'd never know.

No matter which one survived //god, it might have been both…such good friends, so many shared volunteer duties!// she would never have their forgiveness again. It was too far over the line, to use the tools of the enemy as she now intended. Slade was a man of honor, but he was also a killer. And she had a very bad feeling more people would die, that she would give up information that let him kill her friends.

It was too much, too harsh a deal, even to win back the world from the ones she knew would destroy it, ones like Psycho, Luthor, Talia.

She did not even stop to throw her robe on, leaving her bed just a scant two hours after laying down in it. She could hear Lian and Rose, knew she should be teaching them, but this...

She found him in the armory, inspecting the weapons he kept there. She shuddered violently, and he looked up, seeing her face and knowing just why she was there.

"I won't help you kill my friends," she said bluntly, one part defiant, but three parts terrified.

"You have no friends that I could not have killed at my leisure any time in the past ten years," he said. "No profit, though some will have to be... decommissioned for a time."

"I can't kill," she whispered.

"Not even for the sake of winning the world back? For making what you did no longer relevant?" he asked her.

"I'm not a killer." Her blue eyes were damp, but she was standing taller, losing fear and gaining defiance.

"Some things must be ended, Dinah. And you'll know what they are when you see them. You'll make the choice needed." He turned back to his task. "The best way to protect your friends from the fall out, is to take them down yourself. You keep them out of the fight by any means when it comes to a head as Rose predicts, and they stay breathing."

"I'll hold you to that," she warned. He merely nodded.

"There are sedatives in the infirmary. Make sure you find sleep soon." He knew the boys had gone to Harper's room, that she would not face that just yet. He finished gathering what he would need, then looked in her direction. "I'll be gone, today, maybe tomorrow." 

"Checking on the Cheshire link?" she asked. They had discussed all her impressions from Kahndaq, after discussing likely hero reactions to the Tower falling. 

"Immediately. She's too dangerous to have as an unknown," he replied. "Keep an eye on the children." He picked up his kit bag, placing his trust in her word to him. 

She accepted the inherent dismissal, and turned on her heel, resolving to make sure she trained herself twice as hard now. If she could help fix her mistakes, and save them... it would be worth the stain on her name, the cost of forsaking her legacy.

*~*~*~*

Roy'd managed to just watch Dick sleep for most of an hour before it started to make him insane, and he slid carefully out of the bed and picked up the plate. He headed out of the room, making sure Dick stayed asleep as he slipped out the door and headed down to the kitchen, seeing everything differently... subtle, uncertain difference, but things were... sharper... He heard Lian and Rose talking, and smiled, but kept moving. He'd play with his baby later, when he wasn't quite so uncertain of his own strength.

He heard her, smelled the faintest scent of flowers before he turned into the kitchen. Dinah was sitting in the window seat, knees pulled up to her chest as she looked out the window, a half eaten piece of toast beside her. 

//Shit, not who I want to see right now... but... I... I've got to talk to her.// He walked over, and leaned against the wall. "Hey, Dinah..." his voice soft. 

"Morning, Roy." She would not look up at him, would not look away from the window. Her voice was shaky, softer than he might have expected. 

"Di..." He knew he'd hurt her, but... this didn't look like it was just about that. "What is it?" 

Now she looked at him, her face streaked by the marks of tears left to dry there, her eyes and nose showing all evidence of a long cry. "The Watch Tower... in the night..." Fresh tears ran over the runnels of the old ones, causing her to look away again.

"What?" He reached out to her, moving into her space--she was still the best thing (barring Dick) that had ever happened to him, and he couldn't stand to see her cry. 

She turned into him, hiding her face to his chest. 

"It exploded, Roy. God only knows if it was down to bare staff, or even mostly automated, but someone..." She sobbed hard. "One of them was up there. Maybe both." 

"Oh.. oh, Di..." //One of--ooh. But, Bats hasn't been near the League...// he eyed the position she was in, eyed the window seat, and picked her up, settling onto the seat to hold her--more comfortable than the kitchen chairs, and she needed it, even if she didn't want it. "Maybe not, I mean, an attack would've given them time to get them off, right?" 

"The news... said the last contact with them cane only three minutes before the explosion, Roy. No attack could have launched and been effective that fast," she whispered. 

"Then... sabotage, mechanical failure, doomsday switch, or something I can't even begin to guess..." thinking-out-loud Roy, words coming quick.

Dinah shook her head. 

"My heart says no. This feels like... feels like what was happening has accelerated. Slade's let me know what is going on... part of my deal to not try and do anything against him. I know there are these robots attacking metas on both sides. I know there are good friends and enemies alike, being slaughtered by Spectre. This comes too close to all that...." She shuddered. "The people working together in this Society; it's a nasty list, Roy. And together, if they put egos aside, they'd be a very hard force to fight, even at the top of our game." She grimaced, looking back out the window, biting her lip. "Their game, I mean." 

Roy winced, holding her. "To take out the Watch Tower... damn. Someone knew what they were doing... and yeah. I can't see the League letting the Tower go down, not when w--they need to be half a dozen places at once, losing the transporters...that's too big a blow." He nodded, "Yeah, I heard some of those rumors--and got a first-hand look at one of their strike teams. Slade's told you who, then?" 

"He doesn't know." That admission, that feeling she had tumbled into the minute it dawned on her still frightened her. It was completely unlike Deathstroke to be behind the curve. "But then, he's not been dealt with openly. The man he met as Lex Luthor... is not right. Either Luthor's a mindless puppet, or it's an impersonator."

"Thaaat scares me--wait a sec. We're working on two different tracks. I meant 'Slade gave you the Society roster?'... and I'm pretty sure you mean 'he doesn't know how the Tower was taken'... And, Di, how do you know this thing about Luthor?" 

She took a deep breath. "I let him use a hypnotic. He took me to Kahndaq. A trophy piece, as far as they knew." She shivered violently, remembering that decision all too well. "I was there to learn, to see, because he wanted my impressions. From what I know, without him distorting things by telling them to me."

Roy's arms tightened protectively around her, "He took you into that fucking snakepit?" Only the fact that he knew she was whole--//completely whole; her arm's fixed man; am I slow on the uptake-- it was to the window. chill out//--kept him from immediately trying to check her over. "Are you okay?" //She let him drug her? Dinah, what the fuck?// The second the words were out of his mouth, he knew exactly how stupid they were. 

"No, Roy, I'm not!" Her soft voice gave way to the bitter anger that helped push the aching grief aside. "I'm living in the house of the number three assassin in the whole fucking world! My goddaughter is hostage here, my heart's son is walking the path of a killer again, and I've agreed to help fix a situation I helped create by getting my hands as equally dirty!" She clenched her hands in fists, and his new senses rapidly caught the bloodscent of nails slicing palms. "I'm never going to be okay again!"

//Gooood one, Harper,// bitter thought. "Shit, Di... I... I just--it's what you ask, you know?" He sighed, holding her, thinking through what she'd said. //True, true--how'd she? Slade, or she saw--and she... what?// "You're... going to keep helping him?" almost startled voice. //I... how do I argue with that last? I mean... she's... right...// 

"I don't have much choice, now do I?" She tried to keep her tone regulated, to keep out the hysteria edging into her mind. "Even Slade knows I'm skilled enough to escape this place. And even if it amused him to let me live once I had, he knows the League is not going to heel to anything I say, not when I'm in the disgrace of that whole fiasco. By the time I got enough support, the Society would have picked us off, bit by bit." She cupped his face in both her hands, finally meeting his eyes fully. "There's a reason behind it having been your team, Roy. Your team, and maybe Ollie's, are the only two who would have met force with equal force quickly enough, without needing to think through it. Slade did not have to spell that out for me; it's a precept of the Outsiders from when Batman had them."

It took Roy only a few moments to run through all of that--it would have taken him a lot longer, once--and he nodded. "You're right, Di, on almost all points--I think some of them would still listen to you--" he left the 'if Slade let you live' unspoken, "and yeah, we would have, we were gearing up for just that, soon as I pulled some solid intel in. We were the first-strike force, little as anyone liked to mention it." 

"So here we are. You're the only survivor of your team. Mine's probably gone to ground in ways even you can't imagine. The League's busted beyond fixing, and the Titans..." She grimaced. "We know what they probably are going through right now." She shivered. "That leaves Slade, slightly better informed than any hero could be, and using one of the best trained heroes on that serum of his as his lieutenant, with his precognitive daughter on the other side."

"I dunno, I know a lot of ways to go to ground, Di," stalling for time, "and yeah, the League's been splintering, losing the Watch Tower may be the end of it... The Titans will pull it together. It's what we do... what they do," and saying that, disavowing his team, the team he'd helped found and led and bled for, ripped at him, thickened his voice... //Oh, Di, don't hate me, please...// "Not one, Di... two, not counting Rose." Low, softly reluctant voice. 

She pulled back, her hands leaving his skin as if burned. She wanted to scream at him, wanted to ask how in all the hells they had seen he had let this happen. She searched his face, his eyes, and slowly covered her mouth. 

"You... chose... this?!" Her voice was low, hurt, and disbelieving. 

Green eyes closed in the face of her disbelief and hurt, but he nodded. "Yeah... Shoulda learned to work with Fleetfeet, maybe then I'd'a been able to keep up with Dick--but I couldn't, and it fucked us up, screwed our patterns to hell, Di, nearly got him shot..." He opened his eyes again, finding her face, "I can't be the reason he dies, Di, I can't..." 

She sucked in a harsh breath, then nodded sharply. "Like I got him killed," she whispered under her breath. She then laid her head back on his shoulder. "I understand."

Relief slammed through him hard, and he held her closer, knowing exactly who she meant--and he couldn't think about that. "Thanks, Dinah. That... helps." //I didn't think you would..// "Back on topic... it's a hell of a world we're getting into, Di--and that's without this unknown messing with things..." 

She shook her head. "I don't care if I survive whatever is coming; I just want to see the world set right, or as close to it as we can come."

"Back to something that at least kind-of resembles normal? Yeah... I could go for that... but don't you dare die on us, Dinah Lance," he growled, holding her.

She did not answer him, leaning into his arms. He could hear the erratic breathing settle into something approaching calm, feel her settle into that comfortable crook she always found when she would drop in on him, and crash with him for a movie.

Roy ran a hand over her hair lightly, grateful he'd gotten off as easily on this topic as he had. It did not take long, and she was asleep in his arms, though her body did not ever truly relax.

As she fell asleep, Roy shook his head slightly, and wondered if there was a chance in hell he could get her to bed without her waking. 

She roused a bit as he tried to shift, realized where she was again, and shook her head. 

"Sorry, Boy-o... told me to sleep..." She tried to slip free of his arms. 

He wasn't willing to fight her, not about that, and slowly let go. "Yeah. You need it, Di, it's okay..." he was going to have to shower before he crawled in with Dick, but... she needed him. "I think I can get you that far, if you want..."

"No, Roy." She put her hand up to stop him. "You have... responsibilities. I can find my own room." She turned to leave him, keeping one hand lightly on the wall to help her balance.

Roy shook his head at her, amused and exasperated by her stubbornness. "One of those responsibilities is out cold, and the other is with Rose, if I heard right on my way down."

"You did," she replied. "Her father put her on Lian duty for the day... I think I see why now." She could feel the headache of the night prior pressing in again, and Roy... the serum was still working in his system, she surmised.

Roy nodded. "Yeah... I don't think either of us knew when I'd wake back up..." //Or what I'd be like when I did,// went unspoken. 

She turned, looking over her shoulder at him with pride. "You've always been a helluva man, and there's no one I know with a stronger will to succeed. You'll handle whatever that mess throws your way." She blew him a kiss and then made her way out of the kitchen carefully. Roy looked after her, eyes wide, startled, then grinned to himself, feeling a completely ridiculous amount of pride at her praise. 

Not long after, Rose made her way into the kitchen, supposedly to get a snack for her young charge, but she knew good and well who was there. Her plans to protect her household depended on the newly enhanced redhead, and this might be the only time he was alone.

"Morning, Rose. How's Lian?" from his spot still in the window-seat.

"She's fine. Watching some Samurai cartoon right now," Rose told him, looking at him to try and judge his state of mind.

He grinned slightly, apparently in at least a decent mood, though his eyes were slightly shadowed. 

She came and sat in the chair closest to the window seat, her one eye showing concern. 

"You feel okay?"

He smiled at her, "Yeah, Rose, I'm okay. Worried about Dinah... and Dick. I hear it was a hell of a night, last night." 

Rose frowned. "Roy... you should probably know Dick and Daddy argued. But it's not really their faults."

"Given that it was over me, true enough... and I know they fought, Rose. Nobody else here could've bruised Dick like that... but what do you know that I don't?"

Rose met his gaze clearly. "I already spoke to her about it, but it seems Dinah and Daddy had an exchange concerning sons." As a former Titan, there was no way Roy could be ignorant of the implications, especially not when she had seen Joey's guitar missing from the music den, not when she had heard Roy playing that same guitar.

"Oh, hell. That would've riled Slade's temper... I think I'm going to stay very, very far out of your father's way for the next week, given the option..." //Sheesh, Dinah...// 

"You won't have a choice. We all need to train together." Rose folded her hands in her lap rather than reach out to touch him, respecting Dick's boundaries. "And you... you have to train hardest, because your reflexes aren't keyed right. Daddy is better now."

Roy sighed, "I hope you're right, or things might get... difficult." //That's an understatement, first Di lays into him over you, and then Dick does the same damned thing?//

Rose broke into a grin. "At least he appreciates the concept of family being protective." She cocked her head to one side as if sizing him up. "You must be something pretty damn special to make people go up against Daddy like that."

"Good point." That might be his saving grace with Slade. "Don't ask me, Rose," Roy shrugged, "I don't get it, but they must think so." He kept thinking, for a minute, "All right, Rose, I'll see if I can't cool Dick off."

"Roy..." Rose stood, her grin disappearing under a mask of consideration. "Daddy does love him," she whispered. "I promise you that." She then hurried out, knowing she really should not have spoken of her father's emotions to a third party, but wanting him to understand, wanting Roy to know it as fact.

//So do I, Rose... so do I.// He let her go without protest, vaguely amazed that she'd said even that much, and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Ask me something difficult next time, hm, Rose?" //Like for the moon on a string. That would be easy.//

*~*~*~*

He'd stopped by the den to have a chat with his baby girl, making certain he was careful with her--memories of Dick's strength surging at... uncomfortable moments very clear--then headed on back up, nodding at Rose when she glanced sharply at him. He wasn't going to forget. He had a feeling he'd better be there when Dick woke up, and that meant getting through a shower pronto. As it was, he was drying off when sleep-warm arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him backwards against Dick's slim, hard body. "You left," soft, sleepily annoyed voice. 

"Yeah--we've got problems, lover," he said, turning in Dick's arms, watching sleepy eyes go sharp and alert in the space between heartbeats. 

"Tell me."

"You might know this one, but Dinah doesn't think the Luthor Slade's working with is really Luthor."

"Already knew that, yes." 

"Okay, there's one, 'cause I'm sure you know exactly how bad that is. Two... is that something completely destroyed the Watch Tower last night, with only minutes between its last transmission and the explosion--not enough time to evac, which means more people are dead--and Slade had no clue it was coming. As if things weren't bad enough already, we've got some force with a hell of a lot of power and a hidden agenda attacking the single biggest hero symbol?" 

"The League needed to go down," Dick replied with a cold-blooded shrug, sending a chill down Roy's spine, "but you're right. Another player, in the middle of all of this? I don't like it." His lips tightened as he thought things farther through, realizing who would likely have been on the Tower... one of the few he wasn't angry with... He didn't like that part, either. //Can I hope Zee was up there instead?// vicious, bitter thought. 

//I knew he was angry with them... but I didn't think it was this bad...// Roy thought worriedly, but pushed it aside. "Didn't think you would... and Rose told me something interesting, on a more personal level." 

"Oh?" //What are you up to, little sister?//

"Apparently, before you got into it with Slade, he and Dinah had had an... altercation, involving sons. And he'd just gotten back from something in Kahndaq with her, so... he was probably already wound tight..."

"And I didn't help a damned bit... hell. Now I know why you like her so much, she's just as good at causing trouble as you are!" 

Roy shrugged, acknowledging the point. Apple, tree, and all that, Dick was pretty much right. When Dinah was in a mood to, she could raise hell right alongside him. 

"I was already going to apologize, you know... but the heads-up is nice. Good of Rose..."

"I think she's worried," Roy shrugged. "If you and Slade are fighting, we're all fucked, and thanks, I want to come through this in one piece..." 

Dick tilted his head, then nodded. "Yeah, pretty much... I'll deal with it. Seen him lately?"

"No. Rose mentioned something about a recon trip, though, so I'm not surprised. Gods only know what he's up to."

That got a harsh, frustrated sigh. "Damn. I was hoping to get the air cleared." 

"It'll wait. Business first, after all..." 

"Yeah. Speaking of business, you and I need to go hit the obstacle course out back, see if you've actually fixed things, or just given us a new complication." 

Roy's eyes narrowed--and Dick shifted up enough to kiss him, deep and hard. "Teasing you, my own... but I was serious. Let's go." His hands away from his shoulders as Dick stepped back, composed--but the heat in his eyes said they'd be picking this back up later. Roy nodded, and went to throw on shorts and a T-shirt... just enough clothing to get down to the armory. No sense in wasting time changing back and forth. 

*~*~*~* 

Roy gave the course a final, disgusted look, cursing every drill instructor and training simulation the military ever had--as he'd seen at least half of them built into the damned thing while they were looking it over. The damned hit had been easier. "You've got to be kidding me..." 

"Nope. Bitch, isn't it?"

"Oooh, yeah." The tilt of his head asked, 'taking point?' and the shift of Dick's shoulders was a laugh and agreement, and just a hint of 'don't I always?' 

He shrugged a shoulder back and Dick was moving, covering the first stretch of ground. He waited, watching--and the not-sound of a silenced pistol put a round in a triggered target before he was even conscious of the move //hell, yes,// and he followed once Dick was in place, taking a second on the run--there was something going on, something he was half-seeing behind his eyes, that shot should have been harder. He dropped, and with nothing between them but long moment of observation and a flash of looks Dick was gone again and he knew exactly what the plan was, how to get through this section, easy as silk--//hell, yes, we're back...// 

He had time, this time, to line up his shot--and it was like feeling the path of a laser sight the moment he brought the gun up, knowledge that had always been in his bones clearer than it had ever been as he took the shot, somehow seeing the path the round was going to take... No doubt in his mind it was perfect and the second one was the same way... //Whoa...// 

He followed Dick again, power taking the place of Dick's effortless showman's grace to get him back to his side, knowing Dick could see the delight in his body, waving off the question, settling to the rhythm of beating the course, into their partnership--there was nothing broken about it, now.

*~*~*~*

His hands and skin and hair reeked of cordite before they headed back in... but he had proof that 'sight' hadn't been a fluke. Not counting the obstacle course, he'd run through a clip on every one of the guns he'd chosen on the range... and he hadn't missed--okay, that was nothing new, but he'd bulls-eyed every round perfectly--not once, not even shooting on the run. Which was actually just a bit... startling. 

Apparently, the instincts that had made him what he was had peaked under the serum, giving him an accuracy that was absolutely uncanny--and he could tell Dick was putting together all new training scenarios in his head, ways to check his aim under pressure, test the limits. That was just how he was. Honestly, he didn't mind. He was kind of curious, himself... but until Dick got them put together, he wanted food, a shower, and time with his little girl.

 

*~*~*~*

Deadshot was no slouch on security set up. He knew how to make a house tight, and he was pretty sure it would take someone impressive to get through it unseen.

From the signature orange and blue mark on the hilt of the knife, impressive had come and gone while he was out.

He pulled the blade out of his night table, glancing around; the hilt felt vaguely warm, and that meant it had just been delivered. Then he read the note it had pinned, and knew the courier could not have risked it being found by anyone else.

"She's a dead woman," the gunman promised under his breath, before burning the note. He could bide his time, though, and try to play it just right. He was going to have to deal with Blake first, as he slipped the blade from his rival into his boot. Something told him Blake was just paranoid enough to listen to a warning from within the Society itself.


	21. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The household is settling into itself

Slade moved through the quiet house toward the armory to stow his kit bag, expecting the household to be asleep.

It was, mostly, barring the young man waiting--nervously, honestly--for him in his rooms. He'd set the security system to let him know when Slade returned, and had skittered for his lover's room. 

After inspecting his gear and placing it precisely where it was meant to be, the man made his way up to his office, checking to make sure he had no further alerts demanding his attention. He saw nothing, save that Dinah had made extra notes on his files with post-its, adding what she knew of the various members of the Society. He nodded briefly to see she was maintaining her word with him, and moved on to his private quarters.

Dick dropped to the corner of the bed when he heard the door turn, and sat waiting until Slade came through, eyes snapping up to his face. 

The man flicked his one eye over the kid, firmly clamping down on the less professional responses his tired mind and body offered up. "Kid."

"Slade..." said kid's voice was uncertain, and there was none of the anger that had colored their last exchange. "I..." //Come on, you have to say it, you know he won't...// 

"Help me out of this suit, and into a shower, Kid." Slade walked fully into the room, ignoring what had happened, picking up where they had left off before Dick had pushed the wrong button with him, before he let his own temper escape his control.

Dick nodded and got to his feet, coming over to help deal with the suit, "Everything go all right?" 

"Lawton received the message." Slade had not had to do much on his trip, but he had pushed his travel time, and was feeling the burn of that.

Dick tilted his head, "Deadshot? What were you up to with him?" as his hands slid strongly over Slade's bared back, then dealt with boots and pants, biting down on the urge to start his apology right then and there. Slade wanted a shower, after all. 

"Taking care of a small piece of insurance." Slade let Dick handle the catches, moving his hand back to touch his boy on the hip.

"Mm. Think he'll listen?" He leaned into that touch as he finished stripping his lover. "Want company in that shower?"

"Lawton is not the fool so many people consider him to be." Slade headed for the shower, his fingers ghosting from hip to stomach before he moved away. "Come on, Kid."

"True, but he's also an arrogant son of a bitch," Dick said as he followed him in and slid out of the sweats he was wearing.

"And I'm not?" It was a well-known saying that Deadshot wanted to be Deathstroke. "He'll heed the warning, and Cheshire..." That savage, bitter hate boiled up again on her name; the man would never forgive her machinations. "She will be watched more carefully than she realizes."

Dick couldn't help a slight smile, "Never said that... but then, people say the same thing about me... and oh, good." He leaned around Slade to turn on the taps, testing the temp, then slid in, //Shower again? We're making a habit out of this...//

Slade ran a hand down Dick's neck, along his spine, loving the sight of that body curling around to tend to the small details. "It's going to be busy after today, Kid," he rumbled, a warning that the time they were taking now might be the last for a while.

"How could it not be?" He'd been keeping his eyes on Slade's systems, and the fractured patterns were starting to turn into terrifying wholes. But that was for later. "So, let's make it good..." Full-throated purr, leaning back into the touch, looking back at him with need and love hot in his eyes. 

A smile curved the older man's lips faintly, before he swatted his lover's backside and slipped into the hot water. He drew Dick along his body, pressing him tight under the water.

Dick gasped at the swat, then pressed back against him, purring at the feel of that powerful body pressed against him, hands sliding back to hold on, "I'm sorry I flew off the handle at you," fast, soft words that had to be said before everything could be all right. 

"It's done." Softer tone than normal, but it was the only acknowledgement Slade could give to the fact he had been just as wrong. He then leaned in, tasting the tempting skin of Dick's neck.

"...yeah," Dick agreed softly, then gasped at the feel of Slade's mouth against his neck, pressing back, pushing everything he'd wanted to say away--it was over, done with, and with the tone of Slade's voice they both knew there'd been mutual fault... It was over, and he wanted his lover back.

Slade's hands were possessive, moving over Dick's body with a blatant 'this-is-mine' quality, while he continued to taste the wet skin of his lover.

"Oooh..." low, soft breath as Dick's head tipped back, falling against his shoulder as he writhed back against him. //Yes, I'm yours.//

Slade's hands moved down both of Dick's arms, coming to his hands and gripping them. The larger man moved them forward, until the shower wall was just in front of Dick, and drew those hands up, over Dick's head as the water beat down on his back.

Dick bucked as Slade's hands gripped his, moaning softly--then Slade pinned him against the wall, pulling his hands up, and he cried out, shifting his weight to brace against the wall, head dropping forward. //Oh. oh, god, yes...//

The hands stayed pinned, as Slade pressed close to his perfect boy, fully hard and very hungry. He moved slowly, not yet taking what he wanted, just feeling the way Dick moved against him in anticipation.

Every move drew a low, soft cry and a pleading, hungry buck back... and Dick twisted his wrists slightly, rubbing back against his lover as he did. He wasn't trying to get away, was so glad to be right where he was, but... 

Slade growled at him for the small defiance, pulling both of Dick's hands into one of his own and stretching them up higher on the wall. The hand he freed roamed down along the line of Dick's spine, over the swell of that firm ass and then away...only to come back in a resounding slap that left a hot red imprint. "Behave, kid," Slade whispered against Dick's ear in a soft, seductive growl.

The high, gasping cry and the rock back that slap brought almost undoubtedly told Slade he'd just given his boy exactly what he wanted, and Dick shuddered at his voice, moaning softly. 

One eye narrowed with lust and purpose as he let the free hand roam around Dick's hip, brushing briefly over the kid's hard-on. His foot slipped between Dick's ankles, pushing his legs further apart, so that the kid was less comfortable, with his hands stretched so far above his head.

Dick shuddered and shifted, resettling into that splayed-out, more vulnerable position, spine twisting to resettle his shoulders. //Yours, Slade. I'm sorry, I'm still yours, let me know it...//

The older man viewed the image of his boy before him, feeling a tight surge at knowing that this was his, this perfect union of grace, strength, and beauty. He discarded all thoughts of drawing it out, wanting Dick to know that they were beyond the fight, that he still loved the kid, still possessed him fully. He gripped Dick's hip with almost bruising strength, pressing close once more, as he bit the nape of Dick's neck.

"Aah... oh, god, Slade, please..." shaking, high cry as he rocked back against Slade's body, nearly purring at the feel of broad, strong shoulders and hard muscle blanketing him--losing that was the one thing he'd regretted about provoking his lover. 

Slade smiled, hearing that affirmation of their union, pushing into Dick as the 'please' was lingering on his lips. He went slow, easing into the tightness with a hiss of the effort it cost him to move so slowly. 

Dick clawed at the wall, rocking back, making himself relax, thankful for the hot water that was hopefully going to be enough.

The older man moved his hand from Dick's hip, reaching forward to stroke Dick's cock. He rocked his hips carefully, letting the kid adapt.

"Oooh..." Dick mewled softly, rocking into that touch and back against his lover's body, //Oh. oh, god, feels so damned good...//

"Easy, Kid," Slade purred, sliding deeper into his lover on every push. 

Dick whimpered softly, flash of //'easy', what?// going through his head as he moved with him, just as slowly, not trying to rush things... For one, rushing things would hurt, and for another, this was so, so good. 

The grip on his cock grew more insistent as Slade finally eased fully in, holding that position for a long moment before drawing back and settling into a rhythm with his lover. His mouth played over the exposed neck, right up to the hairline, then over behind Dick's ear.

Dick moved with him, braced against the wall to let Slade have his way, whimpering softly as he rocked into Slade's hand, tilting his head slightly to give better access...

"That's it, Kid," Slade growled next to his ear. He pressed another kiss to the younger man's throat, hips flexing with careful strength, driving deep again.

"Mmm..." Dick let himself mewl and buck back again, pinned and owned and loving every second of it...

The hard body behind him was slowly becoming more forceful, the hand on him moving with knowing skill, calloused finger tips touching just right to provoke Dick. 

"Slade!" high, gasping plea, body bucking with quick jerks between Slade's wicked, knowing hand and every strong thrust...

"Ask," Slade demanded, wanting to hear that full submission to him. He continued working Dick's body, feeling his own desires flaring even more sharply.

"Slade, Slade please, I need you so badly, you're making me crazy, please..." 

"I know that, Kid. I can feel how strong your body craves mine, how you want me to make you lose your mind." Slade's voice flowed over Dick's nerves like a silken scarf. "I want to hear you say just what you want, nicely."

Dick cried out, high, harsh noise as he trembled at that voice, body spasming... "Harder, please, please, you're still holding back, don't... Let me really feel you, own me 'til you're the only thing holding me up, 'til I can't do anything but scream for you..." He wanted his pleasure... but he needed Slade's.

That statement, that complete, willing submission to him, garnered Dick a very gentle kiss on his shoulder...just before the older man drew his hand away from Dick's cock and let go of the hands above his head. Now both of Slade's hands took hold of Dick's hips, digging in to the flesh of the hollows there, fingers curving over the sharp planes of the bones. He rocked back, pulling almost fully out of his lover, just before pushing in with a hard, fast thrust, setting the tone of their new rhythm.

Dick pressed into the kiss, mewled unhappily as Slade released him... then cried out, high and loud and sharp at that grip… and that first hard thrust pulled a louder cry from his throat, one of pure pleasure and hungry need, arms flexing to brace himself...

That thrust was but the first of many, each one hard and long, as Slade used Dick mercilessly. His one eye half closed, but he was still watching the play of muscles in Dick's back, his shoulders, as he let himself take his own pleasure in that tight body.

Dick cried out at each one, mainly low, long cries of pleasure and need as he moved with his master's body, braced hard against the wall, his own pleasure a distant, secondary desire. 

The hard spray of hot water added to the sensuous feel of Dick giving himself fully to Slade. He chose to go with the urge to give Dick just what was wanted, powerful hands bruising as he slid deep one last time and growled out his release, strong body quaking with the intensity of his pleasure.

Dick shrieked at that, hips writhing, fighting off his own release with everything he had, mewling as Slade shuddered against him, bucked so deep into him. 

Slade found a shade of control, bringing himself back long enough to wrap a hand around Dick's shaft, working it with rough, hard pressure, not pulling out yet. "You...Come on, Kid, you know I want to feel you writhe," he rumbled.

That first touch was almost enough, and the second the permission hit his ears he was losing it, bucking into Slade's hand and further back onto him, hands flexing...

The feel of Dick moving between him and his hand was enough to make Slade shudder through an after shock of his own, bracing his hand on the wall near Dick's. He let a pleased rumble escape him as he again took to kissing the kid's neck, tongue flicking over the marks of earlier bites and hard sucking kisses.

Dick shuddered, legs weak, and arched his neck into the kisses and licks, hands flat on the wall to take his weight, making a soft, high noise at the touches. 

As they both calmed, with Slade supporting both of them with his arm sliding around Dick's waist, the older man sighed softly. It said all the things he could not, that he knew he had been wrong too, and that he regretted the fight.

"Mmm..." Dick purred back, reading what that sigh meant more in how Slade's body felt, in the lack of tension and the gentle slide of his hand... it was more than enough, and he turned his head, seeking a kiss. 

Slade gave it, drawing his lover back into the water, so they could actually get clean.

Dick went with that, finding a washcloth once Slade slipped out of him, and washing his lover's skin gently, hands sliding over old scars.

Slade gave a pleased rumble, letting Dick take over the duty of tending him, relaxed and setting the current affairs to the back of his mind so he could enjoy the peace, for just a little while.

Dick dropped to his knees, cheek sliding along his side as he washed down from lower abs to Slade's feet, curled against one leg, happily taking care of his lover, eyes closed against the spray

Slade shifted slightly, channeling the spray away from his boy, one hand tangling in the wet black hair.

Dick purred at the touch, looking up at him with big, dark blue eyes, tilting his head curiously. //Hm? Yes, what is it? What can I do?//  
A subtle shake of the head told him that Slade would prefer to continue this out of the shower, but that he was content with Dick's care of him for now.

Dick nodded once, washcloth stroking up a thigh again, shift of his shoulders asking if he was permitted to stand again, to finish so that they could do just that...

Slade's hand slid over his, taking the washcloth and nodding permission. The white haired man drew Dick close, kissing him hard, as he ran the cloth over his lover's back with teasing friction.

Dick melted into the kiss and the touch, pressing close, hands sliding to cling to his lover. 

Slade smiled into the kiss, scrubbing Dick with firm pressure. He finished, then made sure they were both fully rinsed off, before twisting the water off.

Dick shivered slightly as the water shut off, pressing closer. //Hate that...//

"Cold?" Slade breathed across his ear, drawing a large towel in to drape around his waist, before bringing another in to begin toweling off his boy.

Dick nodded, leaning into the rubbing, watching Slade's face. 

The mercenary was completely relaxed for the moment, showing his affection openly for a change. If Slade saw this as capturing one last moment of perfection, against a very uncertain and shaky future, he did not let on outwardly to Dick. When he was satisfied that Dick was dry enough, he swatted the kid on his hip. "Go turn the bed down," he ordered softly.

Dick went, folding down the comforter and sheets, waiting for Slade to join him. Some things simply didn't need to be said, to be known.

The older man came in a few moments later, his towel discarded, radiating masculine power as he drew Dick into his arms on the bed, and Dick curled into his hold and his body.

*~*~*~*

Ollie's eyes were hooded, dark rings around them when Hal found him that night. The archer had left straight from the funerals, slipping out of everyone's surveillance to start his hunt.

"...Mind telling me why you decided you needed to give even me the slip?" Hal asked as he touched down beside him. It had taken him a while to finish coordinating things with the Corps, get a handle on how the hell to react to the Watchtower, and finally find Ollie. 

"I have to find them! Dammit, Hal, they're out here somewhere!" Ollie had hit every source he could, even bruising us some lower Society members.

"I know, Ollie," Hal said, wrapping a hand hard around his shoulder. "I don't know how they're being hidden from me, either--it shouldn't be possible to block me from someone I know that well. Dinah, especially. Have you gotten anywhere? Anything?" 

Ollie drew in a deep breath that was half sob. "Rumors. Rumors that she was taken down to put Oracle out of the way, rumors that he sold out his team...my boy wouldn't do that!" Ollie snapped the arrow he had just retrieved from his last run in with the local gangs.

"The first one, that I might buy. We lost her for hours, after all. But Roy... you're right, Ollie. That's not Roy." //I can see where the thought comes from, but no.// He laid his other hand over Ollie's--if he was stressed enough to be snapping his arrows, the last place he needed to be was the streets... and it was damned obvious he wasn't going to stop. "The Oracle angle. Who stood to profit most by that? Who's gone after Oracle before?" He'd done his best to keep an eye on things, but... he'd missed a lot, too. 

"She's been hunted before, from what I hear. They pegged her as a threat back when she was running League sources, Roy once told me. Something about Dick having to drop everything to go rescue her..." Ollie's fist clenched. "That's when the world got the impression Pretty Bird was Oracle, they told me. Seems she went with a team of assassins, pretending to be..." His face paled and he swallowed convulsively.

"What, Ollie. What?" Hal snapped at him, watching his face change. 

The archer looked at his best friend slowly. "Lady Vic was on that team...and so was Deathstroke. We know Lady Vic was involved in hitting my boy's team."

"...No reason to think Deathstroke might not have been, then--except that poison's not his style. Neither's kidnapping..." Ice cold fear slid down Hal's spine. He'd known of the man by reputation long before the Lantern ring had found its way into his life, mess-hall tales of the mercenary who'd been a soldier until the tests that changed him, stories of what he'd become--and he had the sure and certain knowledge that the tales he had only half-believed at the time were, if anything, understatements of the truth. He'd rarely run into the man, would be hard pressed to recognize him without the mask and blade... but he knew what he was capable of. "And unless he's changed beyond belief, that honor code wouldn't explain Lian. Or why Roy wasn't left with his team." 

"We don't know if Roy and Dinah are the same thing or separate. Roy means... and because Lian was taken... means a chance of Cheshire being involved, and we all know it's a safe bet those two won't ally," Ollie said bitterly. "Dammit, someone has to know something!"

"Okay. You're right. Stupid to lump them together in the middle of all of this. You might know that, but I don't, fill me in if it's important. Otherwise... Ollie... could this be someone after you, not Oracle?" 

The look on Ollie's face was priceless; the one time he had not been self-centered, and yet it made sense. "Shit, Mia and Connor!" 

"Yeah. Come on, Ollie. Your kids need you," Hal offered him a hand, "and you're not making headway here." 

Ollie took the hand, moving close for the bubble, and tried not to pace in its confines as Hal took him home. There was no way he was going to lose his other kids.

"Ollie, breathe." Hal growled at him. It would be nice if the man would quit fidgeting, too, but he knew that was too much to hope for. 

"I am breathing. Not gonna stop that til I find the sonsuvbitches fucking with my family!" //and god let her be safe, and my boy, and the baby...oh god, please//

//That's my Ollie,// Hal couldn't help a smile at the thought. "Good. Keep it that way." They'd go out again later, once they were certain the kids were as safe as they could be... maybe they could park them with the Titans. That had promise. 

*~*~*~  
Dinah considered not answering the phone that sat directly by Slade's chair, but as she was in it, pouring over the diagrams of Luthor's, or the imposter's, main complex, she felt she had to be responsible. Slade had explained that phone number was known to a very few people, people he considered true allies, or at least people who he respected in some fashion. 

"Yes?" she answered, keeping the shake out of her voice. 

"Ahh, Miss Lance." The deep, resonating voice could only be Black Adam, and she shivered, but kept her voice mechanical, broken, to match his impression of her from their meeting in Kahndaq.

"Yes?" she repeated, hoping she sounded as dim as she should. 

"You need not playact with me. Your benefactor saw fit to apprise me of a few things privately yesterday."  
//So Chesh's group is hiding somewhere near Kahndaq right now. And benefactor my...// "Why are you calling?" It was barely polite, her temper frayed.

"I will be unable to keep my allegiance hidden. Let him know that." He paused to say something in his native language. He then continued in English to her, unaware she had understood him. "The wizard is imperiled and I go to help his other champions."

"Because the Rock of Eternity is threatened by the Spectre, I caught that." Dinah cleared her head. "I'll let him know... and Adam? Good luck." She sincerely meant that; the Spectre's massive campaign against Magic was sickening in its devastating path. She got a small sound of acknowledgement before he hung up, leaving her with the onerous task of rousing Slade from bed. She knew he had made it in; Rose had confirmed that at their morning workout, before she had let Roy borrow the girl for marksmanship training. She had not seen Dick today, and half suspected he was out on errands. 

She checked in on Lian to find the girl still playing contentedly with the TV on in the background. That pleased Dinah, and she made her way upstairs, going slowly to the man's quarters as she weighed the new information in her own mind. Slade had counted on having Black Adam as a hidden ally, but Slade would understand the need to protect the Rock of Eternity, if the man knew anything at all about magic.

She tapped on the door as she reached it, then tested the knob. As it was unlocked, she opened it just enough to speak into the room.

"Slade, Black Adam... he just called. He's on his way to battle the Spectre, as the Spectre is attacking the Rock of Eternity."

"Oh damn, that could be bad," Dick said, his voice sleepy and trying to shake it off. Dinah's spine stiffened; that voice was far too innocent, too barely awake to mean that Dick had recently arrived in the room. She wanted to shove the door open, demand to know what the hell he was doing, when Roy had just risked his sanity and life for love of him.

"Yeah, Kid, seeing how I was counting on him in the next meeting with the Society," Slade rumbled, twisting his legs out of the bed. "No, you stay put, sleep some more; I'm probably sending you out later."

Dinah had to grit her teeth at the affection there, the casual intimacy on display, and she pulled away from the door. It tore her soul that the man her son/friend/brother had given his all for was not even faithful to him. The pain of that realization came hard and left her numb as she started back down to the office. 

*~*~*~*

Roy noticed the tension in the air almost the moment he came back in with Rose. She'd done pretty damned well--especially once he'd figured out how to use this new trick of his to warn her how her shot was off. After the first couple of times, she'd even started to listen. //Aw, hell. What's happened now?// He nudged Rose off to find Lian, and went a-hunting for the rest of the household. 

He got to the level with Slade's office and heard Dinah discussing the ramifications of something in Gotham, but her voice was very tense.

//...aw, man. What now? Do I go in, or not?// He bit at his lip, and leaned on the outer wall, considering. 

"I'll try to remember what I can about the Spectre...be a whole lot easier if I could talk to his last host," Dinah grumbled. 

"Not possible, find a way." //Should'a known better, Dinah,// he thought, hearing Slade's voice flatten out. //...Okay. So it's Spectre, but he's been on this tear for more than the last week, Slade's just now getting interested? Or has something worse happened? (Worse, Gotham, oh, fuck...)// His lips tightened to thin lines.

"We have to hope that Black Adam and Captain Marvel will find a way to repair the damage to the Rock, but I am almost certain this is very bad news for all the magic users, not just the Marvels." Dinah tapped on something with her nail. "How does this affect us?" 

"We lost our ace in the hole with the magic tank that Adam is," Slade said. "Less for us to work with when the battle Rose foresees comes to pass." There was a pause. "All magic being affected by this may affect other things, concerning our plans. I don't need your friends dropping in." 

"They'll be too busy; Gotham is pretty badly hit, and then there are the increasing OMAC strikes."

//Rock, Marvel, Rock of Eternity, aw, shit. Magic completely run amok, just what we absolutely don't need... and Slade, what changes for you about us if magic's been disturbed? I don't get it...// 

"Let us hope you're right. That boyfriend of yours with his ringed friend is tearing apart various cities hunting for you and that boy."

"That boy and I are part of his world, but he's a responsible hero... he'll be focused on the relief efforts."

//Oh, Di, come on, you know I'm okay,// Roy thought at her, wondering what had triggered that kind of pissed-off, loaded tension from her... Her voice could have cut glass with those words. 

"We'll rely on that, and maybe luck will cut us a small break, keep the spell intact." Dinah made a small noise. "Our next move needs to be confirming something as to who this Luthor person is, and what his other plans are. There's too much happening, too many events coming to a head to see where the real manipulations lie." Dinah took a deep breath. "I'm getting lost in all of it. Let me take a break."

A phone within the office rang, and Slade's voice went very, very calm. "Go, Dinah. I may be a while. Keep thinking." 

"I will, Slade." Roy heard her feet hit the floor //sitting on his desk?// before the door opened fully and the woman stepped out into the hall.

He lifted a hand at her, casually, as Slade answered the call. "Calculator, w--" The heavy door shut under Dinah's hand, cutting off the rest of his words. 

Dinah saw her son/friend/brother there with a frown, unable to keep the revelations of the morning out of her body language. She did raise a finger to his lips to hush him, not wanting to discuss this near Slade's door. She took his hand and dragged him down the hall and to her own room.

Roy followed her, confused, but not about to get into whatever the heck was going on right outside of Slade's door while he was dealing with the Society. He really wasn't that stupid. Or reckless with his own skin. Although, given the cameras in Dinah's room, was this really any better? "Dinah?" 

"He knows every damn thing in the house anyway," she said, eyes snapping. "Roy... did you know? Before you chose to be like them, did you know what the deal was between Slade and your lover?"

//Awww, hell--wait a sec. Di, how'd you miss it?// "Good point," Roy shrugged, agreeing with that. "Did I know what? That Slade owns him just as much as Dick owns me? Yes, Dinah. It's a little hard to miss." 

Dinah shook her head, grief tinging every move she made now. "Always knew from your talk about the Titans that Slade was fascinated with Dick...but thought it was the Batman/Robin kind of relationship, not..." She shivered violently, her own private thoughts playing over other events. "Roy, I so wanted you to find a one and only kind of love!"

Roy nearly bit through his lip at that first comment, the reaction obvious, and he went to wrap an arm around her gently, unsure how to make her understand. "It's..." he shook his head, flicking through memories and possible angles... 

"Let it go...if it's what you want...you're my heart, Roy. I have to accept it." She leaned into him hard. "Maybe if I could have shared, I wouldn't be here now, hmm?"

He held her close, shaking his head. "That's not the kind of woman you are, Di... and there are times it makes me want to scream... but then, at least this time I'm not--" he cut himself off. After all, he'd done the same thing to Dick for years, it wasn't like he was the only one. 

Dinah sighed softly. "God I hope Hal is with him," she whispered, before pulling away from Roy. "Boy-o, I'm putting it away. I promise. I'm not happy, for your sake, but I'll deal." 

"Given what I heard, I think that's obvious, Dinah..." And oh, he had never wanted that confirmation... "Dick never tried to hide it from me, Di. And Slade made it very clear, just in case I was harboring any doubts. I may be massively screwing up by the numbers, here, but if I can work this right..." His eyes said what his voice couldn't, 'maybe i can save some of the people we love.' 

Dinah nodded. "I'm only giving him my cooperation to save lives. Because I know Slade. The man can put things together faster than anyone, even the Bat. If I can..." She hugged herself tight. "I'm sorry I put my values on your relationship. You are very much a grown man, and able to choose for yourself, and I know you've probably had some damn hard ones to make. Just understand I worry because I do love you, Roy..."

"Would you quit this pulling away from me bullshit?" Roy asked her in annoyance and wrapped his arms around her again, kissing her hair. "I know, Di. Trust me, I know..." //I don't know, Di, choices get a hell of lot easier when you're looking down the barrel of a loaded gun in your lover's hand... it tends to crystallize the thoughts nicely, and I'm not ready to die--I can't do that to Dick. I can't.// That echoed back and forth through his mind, 

"I need my anger, Roy....I need it to fight back everything else, and you...your arms promise shelter, a place to let the anger go, give way to grief," she said. "I can't do that. B... Oracle needs me to stay strong, Wildcat...they don't know it, but I have to."

"Oh. Okay, Di. When you can... I'm right here." That one he understood, could even agree with... as long as she wasn't just pulling away from him, he could handle it. //I've owed you that for a long time, Dinah. Any time you need it.// 

Dinah drew in a very deep breath. "I need you to do one thing for me, Roy." Her eyes met his in all seriousness. "If I cross the line...you make it to where I don't escape custody." //Don't fight me on this, Boy-o, see that I would be insane if I ever killed a person...couldn't handle it when Ollie did...//

Roy stared at her in shock, shaking his head. //Di... damn it, don't ask me that...// "I... if it's in my hands, I'll do what I can." Really, that was all he could say--and if that ever happened, if something pushed his Dinah to that point... Honestly, he didn't think Slade would let her go. 

"It's all I can ask." She placed a hand on her forehead, and her stomach. "God, I need food, a ton of aspirin, and to get back in that office. I have no idea how to predict a man I know is not the Luthor I have seen over the years, but we better figure him out soon."

"Think I can help? I know jack-all about Luthor anyway, but I do know lunatics, and anyone with those kind of balls is not sane. Let's go get lunch, find you those aspirin, and I'll see if I can help. ...Hey, do you have any idea where Dick is?" 

"Slade sent him on a quick recon." She ducked into her bath, rummaged in the medicine cabinet there, then returned. "My question is, if that Luthor is not the real one, where is the despicable ex-president at?"

His heart slammed into double-time for a moment, reaction of pure adrenaline, //Damn it, you stubborn bastard, be careful! I'm supposed to be watching your back!// "Oh. Okay," he made himself sound calm, though his hand tightened uneasily against the seam of his slacks, //Dick, damn it...// "That... is a really, really damned good question." 

Dinah's eyes flicked over his body, reading him like an open book. "Relax, Boy-o. Gotham only, and he knows that city more than well enough to evade everyone."

"Goth--jesus christ, Slade, looking to tip your hand? Please god let Batman be too damned busy..." That really, really didn't help, despite the logic of her words he couldn't help seeing that confrontation across a rooftop, the probable outcomes--(Bruce lying dead or near-death, soul broken if he lived, Dick taken down hard and caged, or worse...)--and that none of the results could leave his lover sane. //Let him be too busy, let him be too busy to notice, Dick, god, stick to the shadows...//

Dinah took his arm. "Br..Batman is still unknown," she whispered softly, and he felt the emotion there. "A few heroes dropped off Slade's radar, and he can't account for it through the Society."

The grip and the fear and grief in Di's voice pulled him back, made him calm for her sake, considering that the Gotham rogues had not seen their nemesis since... He calmed down. "And Robin will be with the Titans, or at most in-route. Huntress was running with you Birds. He can evade Batgirl, if she's out and spots him... Az might be in town, but it's Dick's city, not his. Okay. Okay."

Dinah ran her hand up his back to his neck, squeezing. "He better treat you damn good, Roy, or I'll find a way to kick him in his nuts."

He didn't even crack a smile. He knew when she was serious, and he didn't want to see Shiva's student and Deathstroke's heir in an all-out brawl. Sparring was one thing. "He is, Di... you don't see it, but he is. And god, was he pissed at Slade 'til I knocked sense into him... at me, too, but... we're good, Di. I promise." 

She nodded. "Fine. He keeps his nuts for now." She ruffled his hair then. "Let's hurry. If Slade stays tied up on the phone, I can get some time in with Lian."

"Sound's good to me, Dinah," he smiled at her and headed out the door for the kitchen. If he was lucky, she might even let him handle cooking. A thought suggested itself to him--and he slammed it down with everything he had, refusing to even consider the thought, the burn at the back of his throat something he'd lost the first time he'd whispered 'yes' to his lover wrapped in black silk and danger. He couldn't. It wouldn't be... That was gone. He forced the stray thought away, swallowing, trying to think of something else to feed his friend, his child, and, if necessary, the man responsible for all of this.

As they passed the office, they realized it stood empty, papers still laid out... strange, and then Rose called out to them from the den. "Daddy's gone, the Society called. He thinks he'll be back tonight, though."

"All right, Rose, thanks..."

The small shape of Roy's daughter raced out of the den and held her arms up as she jumped off the ground--and Roy swept her up into his arms, holding her tight against him as she chattered at him about Rose and hide and seek and would he play with them, then reached for Dinah, somehow finding an entirely different set of things to chatter about with her. //Oh, my girl. I love you, etai yazi...// It was... much more difficult to hurt when there was a little girl chattering a mile a minute at him. 

He caught Rose watching them, something unreadable in her eyes, and somehow managed to smile at her. "Hungry, Rose? You ought to be, after your morning. Come on, let's see if I can keep from setting dishtowels on fire."

"It's an electric range, Roy..." There. She sounded at least vaguely amused, that was better.

"You've never seen Dick in a kitchen," he replied, and her squeal and sudden closeness as she asked for more of that story helped to banish the rest of the mood. Choice made... and choice paid for.


	22. As the World Falls Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More maneuvers that leave Roy with a piece of closure

Dick felt, rather than saw, the movement toward him, processing details of strong, red, and fast almost incidentally as he moved to catch the attack.

"Fuck!" Jason's voice was harsh as the man in red and black moved impossibly fast, with a controlled violence, to disable him.

Renegade's lips curved in a savage smile as he put this stranger in the city that would never be his again down hard, not giving him the time to recover before he struck again, crippling nerve-strike to take his legs out from under him. //So who the fuck are you?//

Jason hissed…body and mask reminded him of so strongly of Dick Grayson, but Dick…Dick never possessed that kind of brutality. Not even when Jason deliberately provoked him.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Mm... why do you care, stranger?" Renegade asked as his eyes took in details of the costume. "Red Hood... that didn't end so well the last time..." He moved again, with the stranger already down, it would be a great deal simpler to pull that hood away... and if he had to break an arm in the process, he really didn't care.

Jason had one small surprise waiting, flashing a knife out of his sleeve at the assailant, then cursing like a sailor when it missed. This fighter was far out of his league, and that had not seemed possible.

"My city now," he growled.

He'd tilted his head out of the way of the (to him) telegraphed throw, almost approving of the attempt, and went back to his target, ripping the full, metallic mask away //Gotta be hotter'n hell// to see a so-familiar domino below it. Rage seethed through him, tightened his shoulders and nearly pushed him to end this fight permanently... but something in the features was familiar...

"Masks on masks," Jason mocked, fighting to regain some control of nerve deadened limbs.

//Oh my fucking gods.// "One's as easy to remove as the other," Renegade replied and slammed a kick into the stranger in his mask's //not his for a damned long time// hip, knowing what he was trying, and dropped again, crouched perfectly balanced behind a shoulder, another nerve-strike taking out the use of an arm.

"But when the real mask is your own soul, how can you tear that away?" Jason snarled, his mind telling him over and over that the moves were right yet so wrong, that this was the one he had replaced, but it just wasn't possible. "Right, brother?" //Has to be…don't know how, has to be, though.//

Dick stared down at that face, thankful for the mask that hid the stunned shock in his eyes, "Never been all that fond of riddles, or those that leave them," Renegade said, torn between imperatives. "Rather like clowns, in this town they're never funny... and I've wasted enough time here." //How in the?!// His hand snapped down, bypassing the mask to slam a pair of strikes into other, major nerves, knocking him unconscious. //Shit, shit. This can't be Jay... and if it is, I can't let him live, not now that he's seen me...// He studied the costume again, finding the guns, //Or maybe I can... no way he's running with Bruce with those...// 

It was just a matter of self-preservation, to be sure he had enough time to get free of Gotham to field strip the man who looked like Jason Todd, and throw him deep in a warehouse, trussed up like a sacrificial offering.

`~`~`~`~`

Slade Wilson was an unhappy man. All the pieces were pointing at something on a far bigger scale than he or Dinah had theorized, something almost universal. He still did not quite know what it was, but when a team, including a very rabid looking Superboy, was dispatched to go acquire Power Girl, for the odd Tower that had living energy beings chained to it, Slade knew it was time to make a call.

A pay phone in a bad neighborhood gave him the opportunity, and he punches in the one public number for the JSA headquarters.

"JSA museum, how can I help you?"

"There's a threat coming. Be ready." He hung up the phone, and headed toward home, to ready his people for the war he can feel in his bones.

As he drove, he contemplated the Tower, thought about why Luthor had chosen to let the rest of the inner circle know about it now. Slade had recognized the people as ones who had vanished, knew the catastrophic energies they held within their bodies, and it made him wonder.

"He's got to be close to endgame, to reveal his hand," Slade said. "Wintergreen, this is when I need your tactical head, to see just how much time is left." Whatever time it was, there could not be much, if Slade was going to keep himself in business, and his family safe.

`~`~`~`~`

Accepting Renegade's report while he stripped for a shower was one sign just how little time Slade felt there was. He listened to the concise report of how Gotham was handling the fallout of the Rock of Eternity crashing in the harbor, how many pieces had sheared off and done damage.

"As I was getting ready to head back, someone," his head tossed arrogantly, "tried to jump me. Someone that shouldn't be possible..."

"Explain." Slade kept listening as he stepped into his hot shower, to scrub the stink of Psycho and Luthor from his skin.

"He was wearing something from way back in the past, from Bruce's files from before I ever joined him--updated, but still the Red Hood. I took him down, deadened his legs, took the mask... He was wearing a domino under it. My domino... and then he called me brother."

"And you say this person could not have been…refresh my memory, my Robin." He had too many thoughts to puzzle through who from the past had haunted his boy.

"He looked... like Jay would have, if he'd gotten to grow up, sounded like his voice would've if he'd... It's impossible. I'm running the DNA print anyway, so I'll know for certain... but the way he tensed right before I knocked him out..."

"The wild Robin," Slade commented, stepping out of the shower after cutting the water off. "Interesting…Talia said there were plans in place to neutralize the Bat."

"...what the hell did she do this time?" Dick hissed softly, eyes hard as he reached for a towel, drying his lover's skin quick and thorough. "He was running with guns, and I spotted mention of a killing spree with his name all over it in a paper as I was headed out. That just might distract him..." //Especially with me gone, a chance to get Jay back...// "I pulled his gear, trussed him up, and dumped him in a warehouse. It'll take him a while to get loose, either way."

"Good." Slade pulled his mate close, kissing the side of his head. "Get that boy of yours ready; I need everything Cheshire knows, immediately. Wear the suits, and use the masks."

Dick nodded and leaned into him a moment, "Voice masks and all. Should I just talk to Deadshot, or take her out from under them?"

"Use them as needed. All of them." Slade gripped the back of Dick's head. "One more thing…she doesn't live."

Dick nodded slowly against the grip, "I'll see to it." //I don't want her ever coming after Lian again.//

"Go. I have to see what I can accomplish, listen to the hero side of things, and plan," he told Dick.

Dick nodded and went to go find Roy, pleased that it was late enough Lian should be asleep.

Roy was just putting away the guitar and looked up as Dick came in. "Trouble?" He could read the vaguest nuances in his lover's body, fully attuned to Dick in ways that defied logic.

"Mission," Dick shrugged a shoulder.

"Let's gear up," Roy said, moving toward the door. "Brief me as we go?"

"Yeah. Full masks, voice mods," he added as they walked down to the armory. "We're headed for Europe this time."

"So we're going as his 'arms'," Roy said nonchalantly. "Who against?"

"Ask me again when we're out," Dick replied, pushing the door open to go strip and armor up.

They helped each other, making sure the gear was in place and perfect, since they were not fully practiced in Slade's uniforms yet. Roy saw to his arming carefully, and made sure Dick's gear settled correctly after he was armed.

Dick checked over Roy's as well, both of them focusing down on the coming mission, then they headed out, for the airstrip. "We're headed to the Six, Roy," Dick said with the mask pushed back, once they were airborne.

"Jade." Roy's voice made it a curse. "Slade must have gotten confirmation she was the plant, right?"

"Yep. He wants to know everything she knows about what's going on. Which means outing her to the rest of them." He looked over into dark green eyes. "You going to be all right?"

"I'm with you…" Three little words, words that made Roy's world when he was not with his daughter.

Dick stroked his throat gently, studying his eyes intently. "All right. If you're sure." He petted Roy again. //You know she's not just going to talk, you have to...//

//She should hurt, has to hurt, for what she's done.// "She's pissed off the wrong person one too many times."

The smile that brought was definitely Renegade's, "Yeah. She has. It ends tonight, though..."

`~`~`~`~`

Mister Terrific made it into the cave later than the others going to assist Batman with the problem of Brother Eye, looking somewhat the worse for wear.

"Had trouble at the JSA Headquarters," he said by way of explanation, throwing a data disk to Batman. "Play that. We need to know who it is, and it does not match our files."

"What trouble?" Batman demanded even as he moved to run the disk.

"A team of heavy hitter villains, and a kid that looked like…Kal, but younger, showed up and tried to drag Power Girl away. We were on alert, had been called not ten minutes before they showed." Mister Terrific tipped his head in Green Arrow and Green Lantern's direction, looked the boy in the blue exoskeleton over, then nodded to the freshly returned Booster Gold. He saw someone lurking on the edges of the cave, someone that looked almost like a Robin…but he knew Robin was still at Titans Tower.

"Hm." Batman cued up the disk, and the sound of a male voice came over the speakers. He listened once, ran it again, filtering out the background noise... "It sounds modulated... Jay. Willing to see what you can do with this?"

The lurking almost-Robin came down and slid into the space at the computer. "Got it, B. Get out there and get that damn thing out of the sky." His body language was far more predatory than a Robin, Mister Terrific noted, and he saw the way Green Arrow would barely look at the young man. Almost perfect recall clicked through the facts he knew on Batman, and came up with an interesting theory…borne out when he noted a display case had been removed.

"Burning up our window," Sasha Bordeaux said from the heavily modified shuttle hey would be using.

"Everyone aboard the train to hell," Green Arrow muttered, causing Hal to grip his shoulder as he followed his best friend.

Batman nodded and went, ushering the others up into the shuttle to go deal with his wayward creation.

`~`~`~`~`

Jade's head slumped forward, still conscious, but bloody and no longer able to be silent about it. Renegade and Outlaw had not had to touch her; Deadshot had already decided to bring Catman around to the thought there was a traitor on board; he had vouched for Deathstroke's men, Cheshire had been disabled, and they were getting plenty of answers from her, though most of it confirmed what they already knew.

Then she started talking about prisons, about deals and bribes and out right black mails.

Outlaw had been unable to contain one small, nervous gesture as the full scenario was explained…and Cheshire saw it. Her eyes widened as she focused on him.

"Never…thought…you…"

He went still behind the mask, looking blandly at her, not willing to confirm or deny anything, especially in this crowd, and it was Renegade that spoke instead. "There's a lot you never thought through, Jade... obviously." The dry drawl was very much his master's tone.

She looked at him, eyes slitting, before she spat a gutter Vietnamese curse his way, one both had heard Dinah use on more than one occasion. 

"We've gotten all we will from her," Scandal said. "So now?"

Outlaw's hand was barely to the holstered 9-mil at his hip when a blade flashed through the air and embedded itself to the hilt in her chest, just left enough of center to be a clear hit. Renegade walked over to look down at her, twisting the blade as he pulled it out, and snapping a picture through a lens of the mask. "I think that ends things nicely. You boys and girls might want to go to ground a little deeper, it's getting hot... And after all, we found you..." as he cleaned the blade on a scrap of her clothing, only his scent speaking of his satisfaction.

"Good point. But then, you work for the best," Catman said, chewing over just what he would do with the information they had learned. For once, Deadshot did not contest it; both these men moved with the too fluid, too aware motion that Slade did.

"We'll use the body to make a stir," Scandal told him. "Tell your patron, we won't run on his wrong side."

"With," Renegade said, casually arrogant as he tucked the blade away, then nodded once. "That should make a few waves," he smiled slightly, thinking about possible results of that find. "Enjoy the chaos. ...I'll tell him."


	23. Preemptive Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With pieces moved, Slade institutes the beginning of the endgame

Slade gave the woman joining him the barest of nods, before pushing a photo her way. She kept her composure, but looked very alertly at him, then tapped the coordinates he had marked in at the top.

"Pretty far off the beaten path," she said casually. "What does it do?" Her eye lingered on the unmistakable form of Breach hanging from some kind of tower.

"I have no firm idea, but I think it has something to do with the space war we keep getting rumors of." He sat back in his chair. "You will find a way to tip its existence to the heroes, without tipping them to your own."

She glared at him in exasperation. "And just how do you expect me to do that?!"

"I expect you to use your brain, filter through your contacts, and figure out a way. Or am I giving you too much credit, Little Bird?" His one eye matched her indignant glare, and was satisfied to see her settle on the edge of his desk to consider the matter.

"I'll need a voice filter... but I think I can go through Savant." She met his eye frankly. "I'll need to lay out a few of the pieces that should be obvious by now, to make him see it as a puzzle. He'll be unable to resist having a piece Oracle does not, and make her aware of the fact."

"Without recognizing you?"

"He doesn't exactly appreciate me for my brain; I'm the bitch he tried to break who went back and broke him," she pointed out. "Voice filter should cover it nicely."

"Take care of it." He pointed to the secured communication equipment on his side of the desk, and she nodded, sliding off the desk to do as he asked.

Slade was satisfied with that piece out of the way; now, he needed access to Black Adam, and to find out what his boy had learned from Cheshire. He never doubted that he had made the right choice; the impostor Luthor's plans, even still obscured by missing pieces, implied a world order that Slade would find less than profitable or safe for the family he had made. His score with the League could be evened as soon as possible, but the immediate threat was Luthor and whatever he was planning.

`~`~`~`~`

Oracle fell back in her chair after closing the communication channel with Savant. He had been insufferable in gloating that he had a piece of the puzzle she had not foreseen.

A tower in the Arctic wastes. 

She had no idea what it meant, but she knew she had to dispatch a task force to investigate, possibly deal with it. Only, who could she send? So many of the heroes were contending with Brother Eye, in space, or injured from recent bloody altercations with villains and OMACs alike. 

Superman would have to respond to this call; as thinly spread as they were she had to risk sending him alone, and hope he was up to the task of whatever awaited him there. If he wasn't... 

`~`~`~`~`

Black Adam looked disdainfully at the force that had been sent to gather him in, then amusedly spoke back into the phone. He gave a grateful smile to his 'family', made up of Captain Marvel, Mary, and the young CM III as they finished the cleaning up.

"I appreciate the warning, but they have been dealt with." The nigh-immortal warrior, recently returned to the graces of the Wizard, smiled to himself. "I also found a piece of the puzzle to wrest Vandal from Luthor's side."

"That will be an asset, Adam," Slade told him, as he watched his own two operatives return from their excursion with the Secret Six. "I will be in touch."

"Of course."

`~`~`~`~`

Slade's good eye took in the pair, satisfied that neither seemed to have taken injuries on this one. He then looked expectantly at Dick for the report.

"Keep Ragdoll far away from me," was the half-amused, entirely serious first reply to that look, before he started to answer fully. "They got her talking after a while... and we've got trouble. Every last meta prison has someone under Luthor's thumb in it. They're all going to break wide open when he gives the call. Cheshire didn't know when that was planned to be. That's a lot of chaos..." 

God, he hated the thought. So damn many of those were his collars, Titans or Outsiders or working solo over the years... it set hard to have them all suddenly poised to escape all over again to make more hell of this world that had gone so mad //make more hell for my family...//. And Roy... Roy had seethed the entire way home, even though he'd helped talk him through just how they could present this with the most disadvantages. 

Slade leaned back, considering that, considering the ramifications if he just let that part run unchecked. 

Dick looked back at him from bared blue eyes, apprehension for everyone he'd left behind mostly masked by frustration at the situation itself. "Everyone you used us to put away, Slade... Out again. And if they all break free at once, there's no way the heroes can hold them, you know how hard they're running... Which leaves us with the same damn problem of Luthor running the damn show because too many of them owe him for getting them out."

Slade looked toward Roy first, his single eye thoughtful in the extreme. "Any contacts at CBI, still?"

"There are a couple of people still talking to me, despite how many favors I burned..." the redhead nodded once after thinking for a few moments. "One of them Luthor had his hooks into, but the other... She'd probably still listen to me."

"Drop one hint that way. Kid, you need to drop a hint somewhere else, somewhere that won't trace right back to us," Slade told them. "Figure it out, and we'll worry about the fallout after we see which way the other side jumps."

Roy nodded, a little of the tension easing out of his shoulders at the confirmation that they were going to do something about it. Figuring out how to word that hint was going to take him a bit, but... anything was better than nothing.

"Alright." Dick tapped his fingers against his thigh as he thought through who the heck he could drop a word to... and how to do it without being known... //Known... Anonymity... Anony-- Got it. Amy.// "I got it. Need your computer and a couple programs that shouldn't exist, but I got it."

//Now... if I phrase the heading like... that, bounce the message through that relay, strip the codes off with that... send it to her personal from a blind account... that should work. Best send a second copy through to the department fax, just in case...// 

*** 

He could see the tower rising up from many miles away. His impulse to fly right into it, when his long range vision told him Breach was strapped to one side, was curtailed sharply by Oracle demanding to know what he saw. He circled at a distance, naming the individuals chained to it; living batteries, it seemed, for what nefarious purpose he could not begin to think of. Then he saw the man in armor, and vague, uneasy memories that could not exist crowded out most of his rational thought. 

//Images of holding Supergirl, dead or dying, in his arms. Barry, his face set in grim determination, ready to make a run that would be his last. Worlds without end, worlds where the JLA and the JSA only met four times a year...// "I see a wrong in the making," he managed.

"Details, Superman. Talk to me." Oracle's voice held perfectly steady despite the exhaustion that laced it. 

In a voice that grew quieter as he went, he described the tower, everyone he could see, the man in the Anti Monitor armor, and the sheer weight of the moment to her. He was intuitive enough to know this was the focal point of Something Big.

//Who can I send? Even he can't take this on alone, not if...// her fingers ran hard down her face, over her closed eyes as her exhausted brain scrambled to figure out who she could possibly pull away from their current situations to help him, even as she fought a tremble of relief at knowing where their missing were. 

"Send me J'onn, Captain Marvel, if you can raise him...actually, all the Marvels. Even Black Adam if they will bring him. After that Rock thing..." Superman was reasserting his heroic nature, but applying his mind to it as well. He hated to pull J'onn into battle; the Martian was absolutely worn to nothing from coping with all the grief and anger in the aftermath of the Outsiders' murders. "It looks like they had room for more, maybe two. That might explain the attack on Power Girl."

//...I definitely need sleep... and thank God they didn't get her.// The thought was somewhat wry at being out-thought. "I'll get them, Superman. Don't get spotted, please..." She shifted, reached for a different bank of computers and tuned another frequency up, hoping the man was still carrying his JSA communicator. 

"Captain Marvel," came from a voice that spoke of Mom and apple pie even more than Superman's did.

"Oracle here. Superman has a situation in the Antarctic. You're needed... all of you. Black Adam, if he will go. Can you?" 

There was a pause, not long, as a conference was quickly held. "We will be there," he soon said. Anything that had Superman asking for the entire Marvel family had to be worthy of immediate consideration, even for Black Adam.

"Thank you. Oracle out." She switched back to Superman. "The Marvels are on their way," then switched to the JLA band, tuning the frequency for J'onn's communicator, thanking Paranoia for that the communications bands had never been routed through the Watchtower itself. 

"J'onn?" she asked as the frequency went live. 

"Here, Oracle." The Manhunter sounded as strong as ever, but she had actually seen him when he passed through to talk to Dolphin, and she knew it was at least half front. 

"You're needed, J'onn, if you can... There's something in the Antarctic. Superman found this... Tower, in the wastes..." //Tell me if you can't...// it was probably a forlorn hope.

"I'm on my way to him, Oracle." He would fight to the end.

"Thank you." //I wish there was someone else I could send... Bruce, damn it, get that thing taken down and get back here! They'll need your head!// She knew it was taking time to find the satellite, he'd protected it entirely too well, but... 

"Oracle...get some sleep. I have a bad feeling you will need it soon."

"Taking up premon--I'm sorry, J'onn. I'll try." //How can I sleep, with no-one I can trust here to handle dispatch?// She wished she had at least Helena, but Huntress was needed out there far too much. 

"Good." J'onn clicked off then, and Barbara struggled to figure out who she could hand control over to for an hour or two. 

"Martian Manhunter said you might need me," Arthur said as he walked in. "I just got in an hour ago, but I think I see why he suggested it."

She lifted her eyes to his face and tried not to look as relieved as she felt. "Thank you, Arthur... Get me up in two hours, I'll take back over. You're probably going to be needed out there by then..."

She nodded, bit back the heavy breath that wanted to fall, and told him what the current situations were before heading for her bed.   
***   
"Kid!" The harsh voice, abrupt and very command-like, broke up Dick and Roy's sleep. "Into gear; one of those prison breaks needs the three of us."

Dick was up, moving, and to the door before his eyes even came fully open, Roy barely a moment behind him as he pulled the door open. 

"What about me, Daddy," they could both hear Rose asking from the hallway. 

"Kitten, I need you to concentrate on your premonitions, hard. I can feel all this shaping up to a battle, but where? Think about what you've seen and figure that part out." He moved on, going to ready his own gear.

They were right behind him, Roy trailing him as they went down. He slid into the orange and blue as swiftly as he could, checking over all of his gear with swift fingers, blades settling into place over his shoulders. "Which one?" 

"I'll tell you the why, Harper, since you know the man's 'arch-enemy' so well." Slade's mouth had a grim twist to it. "Hector Hammond. And no, I'm taking no chances...long range shot, first opportunity. He can't affect all three of our minds at once, not fast enough to stop the shot."

Roy shuddered once, remembering just how badly Hammond had screwed with Hal all those times... and nodded once. "You're right."

Dick's mind started flashing though every file Batman had on the thoroughly evil telepath, and he gave a very similar shudder. "Agreed. At least he's easy enough to spot..." 

Slade actually smiled. "Here's to hoping he's not scanning as he steps out," the man told them as they left for the car.

"Here's to shielding exercises," Dick replied, thinking very hard about some of the ones he'd learned over the years, his hand reaching for Roy's once they settled into the car. 

Slade nodded. There was just no way in hell he was going to risk a man more powerful than the Martian in mind abilities deciding to join a team with Psycho on it.


	24. Final Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle is at hand, and there are more than two sides to this

Slade was looking over the reports from his contacts, finding out just how each prison break had gone. In most cases, the hero response had been adequate. In some... Luthor had bought himself cannon fodder aplenty from those.

He just wondered when and where it would be used. 

The answer lay with his daughter, apparently, as she came barging into his office, her blue eye still widely unfocused.

"Tomorrow... Metropolis... midday." She forced out around what she was still seeing.

His lips set in a grim line; that was neither much time to prepare, nor a welcome battleground. 

"Gather the others... including our little bird."

`~`~`~`~`

Rose walked in with Dinah, guiding her to the small couch opposite the chairs where the boys were perched. The experienced woman could feel the edge of everything coming to pass, everything on the verge of breaking them out of the holding pattern. She felt Slade's eye brush over her, a question in it when she looked up, and she gave him a slight nod.

She would still face this at his command, if only to save as many of her friends as possible.

"We need to be in Metropolis by morning, ready to fight, ready to handle whatever goes out on the field tomorrow." Slade looked at each and every one of them. "On the side being fronted by Luthor…I prefer to see Luthor, Talia, and Psycho all go down. On the hero side…if Hawkman, Zatanna, or Atom are on the field, they are also to go down." He looked at the boys, at his daughter. "Permanently." He looked at Dinah next. "None of them fall under your deal with me, sister."

"I…yes, Slade." It hurt, it tore at her to acquiesce to this, when she knew what Atom had suffered, how twisted up Zatanna had been, knew that Carter had paid for his with sanity and life already at one time. But when the cost would be so many more of the people she loved //people she'd lost...// it was the only choice she could make. 

"Go prep."

`~`~`~`~`

Roy felt his heart clench as he entrusted his Etai Yazi to Black Adam's arms. The dark Marvel would be taking her to Kahndaq, the fallback point for any of them that survived this day. Roy did not want to look at it that way, but the statistics did not bode well for them, when they were the ones in the middle. Slade was determined to punish the hero hubris for having played god all those years ago, but he also intended to be sure that the status quo did not tip toward the megalomaniacs either. They tended to depress the market for his services.

Lian would be safe in Kahndaq; Adam had chosen not to participate in this final battle between Luthor and the heroes, due to his own disgust with both sides. Roy had complete faith that Dick, Dinah, or himself would survive //Dick has to survive, can't live without...// to raise his heart's delight.

`~`~`~`~`

He took his time to acknowledge her, his eye sweeping up her body in a lazy appraisal of how the colors set on her. The orange in the middle of that blue... he was pleased he had chosen to use the design from when they went to Gorilla City together. It suited her smaller frame better than Rose's pattern, made an illusion of height she did not possess. He finally looked up into her bare face, noticing that her hair was freshly blonde, with no hint of black showing. 

As soon as she saw his eye meet hers, she threw the mask at him.

"You say I have to be out there, that you have to have the edge of me, in your colors out there," she growled. "Fine! But I will not wear a mask! You want your recognition factor?! That damn thing takes it away. I don't hide my face!" Her rage was simmering at low boil, he decided, the perfect level for what was coming. She then stormed out, to finish helping the boys kit up.

He had offered the mask as a basis for helping to shield her from what she might very well do. He should have known better. For better or for worse, Black Canary owned up to her actions, and in that moment, she had earned his full forgiveness for what her League had done.

`~`~`~`~`

Renegade tensed, hands tightening on the hilts of the blades across his back, looking down at the dynamics of the battlefield. Most of the League, most of the JSA... his heart clenched, and released, as all of his scanning spotted so few of the Titans there. He'd heard how badly the breakout at Alcatraz had gone from Slade's reports, and the struggle in the city against some sort of demons that had been right at its heels... the Titans had been mauled. The ones that were there... he wasn't as close to. Terror washed through him at seeing one in particular, but no, there were enough there to cope with Doomsday... 

The villain line hit the heroes' and he surged--Deathstroke's hand settled hard on his shoulder. "No. Not yet."

`~`~`~`~`

The battle had been raging for a good fifteen minutes before Deathstroke let his fighters take the field. They would use the chaos of the clash to their advantage. Neither hero nor villain meant much in the way of an obstacle to him. His only goal was to establish a world order conducive to good business, and having either side win full out was not in line with that goal.

He took the middle, Dick on his left and his daughter on his right. Roy would be nowhere but at Dick's side, and Dinah…with all that this was tearing at her, took her responsibility to Rose seriously, flanking her.

Those at that end of the battlefield took note, saw the swirls of orange and blue as the first opponents were met. They heard the shots, saw the bodies that fell, and neither side could believe it. The heroes were almost paralyzed with shock at seeing the orange-and-blue on two people they'd been so desperately searching for, while the villains were in states of near terror as they watched those colors striking apparently indiscriminately.

With the addition of only five people, the entire face of the fight had now changed into something only one man could truly see.

Slade Wilson was pleased.

`~`~`~`~`

Black Canary saw one of their prime targets of opportunity, the diminutive but repulsive Dr. Psycho. She also saw J'onn nearby, and caught the minute flickers of his form that indicated full mental combat. She hesitated a brief moment, knowing that she was about to stain her hands for the first time, that she was going to cause a man's death. It had been made clear just who Slade felt was entirely too dangerous to leave loose once all was said and done. Psycho was one that presented a difficult target, but while he was distracted by a mentalist near his ability…

She glanced sideways, flashed a quick hand sign and did not even wait for acknowledgement. She leaped forward into the field of fire between the two telepaths, and knew the instant she had Dr. Psycho's attention as he invaded her mind, J'onn following in a desperate attempt to push him back out. The familiar feel of the Martian served to bolster her for the three seconds it took of her being vulnerable to all the despicable, misogynist ideas of the perverted mentalist they battled. That third second ticked by, and Dinah was left only with her guilt and the need to scrub her skin head-to-toe from those thoughts, as Psycho's head exploded from a high caliber round. 

J'onn withdrew hastily from the mind of a woman who had been friend, confidante, and ally, brutalized by knowing she had purposely lured a man into his death. He could not believe it, had been unable to go past that surface layer of the battle mind Dinah was using. And now, as Slade shifted back to closer targets, Dinah disappeared into the fray, her orange and blue marking her as clearly as the murderous intent he had touched within her as being one of the Fallen.

`~`~`~`~`

The battle still raged; so many on two well-marked sides, and those five playing at both sides, equalizing more than trying to win. Old grudges came to the front, and there were people dead or dying on both sides, most of the fastest occupied with trying to save as many as they could. None of the five wearing blue and orange were unscathed, but it looked as if the battle would soon come to an end, from Slade's perceptions.

Those perceptions were stretched too thin to see in time to intervene as the damnable Batgirl threw herself at Renegade, intent on taking him down for her mentor. Unfortunately, Renegade's own defenses proved too violent, forcing her to fight at levels she had consciously avoided for a couple of years. When the wild Robin, Jason Todd, tried to aid the girl, Outlaw tangled him up, guarding Renegade's back viciously.

The fight between Renegade and Batgirl raged for long minutes, with Slade forging through the remnants of the Secret Society that were trying to drag him down.

Then three things happened, almost at once.

Alexander Luthor fired an antimatter blast--Renegade saw and tried to throw himself into it to protect its target.

Outlaw saw his lover react to protect Slade, turned, and fired a deadly shot, thinking Batgirl was far enough away to risk the distraction. 

Batgirl shifted, moving at the edge of her speed in a final bid to take Dick down, attempting to save him, get him away from that psychotic... and wound up hitting him with far more momentum as he spun back to deal with the threat to him, having seen Slade move just enough to avoid the blast.

The crack of bones, the sheer violence of how Renegade fell, crumpling to the bloody ground, caused the few close enough to quickly get away, as Cass realized what had happened. She was vaguely aware of Outlaw //Arsenal?// trying to avenge the fallen man, before being restrained by Ravager and Black Canary //so their psychotic puppet master can take vengeance.//

Slade felt a murderous rage well up inside of him, seeing his perfect apprentice broken at the feet of the same little bitch who had sliced into Rose's throat with her own sword. He moved, aware of Batman struggling to reach them, of the wild Robin gasping for breath where Outlaw had left him. He would kill her, take revenge…

"Slade, he should come back!" Black Canary was saying it for him, for the young man that had nearly struck her in his need to get to Dick, for the life of the girl who had taught her. "Don't start a blood feud with Shiva over this!"

He snarled at that for a moment, but Shiva in this case could mean Cain and the full League of Assassins, more trouble than it was worth, if Canary was right. If his boy, his student, did return to him... if not, he would have time to plan this. 

"Outlaw, Take him, GO!" he bellowed, and moved to guard the boy's back as he moved. As soon as she'd released Outlaw, Ravager had moved, and she and Batgirl were locked in combat again--his daughter was the better, this time. 

As Outlaw moved with all of his speed off the battlefield, Canary keeping up as best she could, he realized the Bat was almost on he and his daughter... it was time and past to leave this battlefield. 

"The debt between your mother and I is cleared," he snarled to Batgirl as he stepped into that fight, catching her to throw her, hard, into the Bat's path--then he caught the whistle in the air of returning fliers, and flicked a sign to his daughter. 

Melting into the partially destroyed city wasn't going to be easy... but he'd done more complicated things. All that remained now was to get home, find out if Dick would come back--//if he could possibly come back sane//--and then watch the pieces fall where they would.

If Dick were truly dead, there would be vengeance.

If his lover lived //fate, you cruel bitch...//, they would put their lives together and soon be back in business.

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  * [Lessons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/737899) by [ilyena_sylph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph), [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly)
  * [An Exchange of Gifts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/737906) by [ilyena_sylph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph), [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly)
  * [Pressured Lessons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/737912) by [ilyena_sylph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph), [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly)




End file.
